


Mine To Hold

by Auraki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Chasing, Creeper Kylo Gets Creepier, Doubly Dubious Consent, Dreaming, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), General Organa Is Deadly Serious, Grayish Rey, I May Have Gone Too Far, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inappropriate touching, Kylo wins at Hide and Seek, No Sleep For the Wicked, Obsessive Behavior, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Renperor, Sexual Tension, Sincere Apologies Hux Lovers, Smut, Space Peaches, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, This Rabbit Hole is Dark and Smutty, Time Skips, Violence, cosmic orgasms, force babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 75,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7964767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auraki/pseuds/Auraki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey must keep her secret away from the new Supreme Leader at all costs. But Kylo Ren has always been covetous of his possessions and this time he won't let her slip through his fingers so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The tiny cabin was dark when Rey returned that evening. Like every evening that kept her away until after sundown, she paused in the threshold to peer cautiously around the midnight corners of her home. Nothing was out of place that she could tell. 

Her pack-rat eyes zeroed in on her most prized possession. There, in the corner just barely outlined by the dying embers of her crudely made fireplace, was a small lump bundled in odd scraps of cloth and fur. She heard the soft sounds of sleep drifting from the low makeshift cot and she sighed deeply with relief as she closed the door behind her and unraveled the heavy scarf wrapped loosely around her upper body.

The room was cold but Rey still felt flushed from the hard pace she'd set during her trek through the forest. She'd been eager to return as soon as possible, the thin scratch on her cheek proof enough that she hadn't shown enough care as she picked her way through the thorny bramble on the woods' edge.

Her home was set far away from the bustling trading outpost 23 miles to the north. The journey to and from would have been grueling for anyone else, but her slender legs were strong and in a past life her deceptively slim frame had trudged up mile-high sand dunes whilst dragging scrap metal at least twice her body weight. A brisk walk was nothing much to someone like her, able to maintain one-handed handstands while deflecting boulders hurled at her person as a distraction. She smiled a bit at the memory of her incredulous reaction when her Master had suggested that little training exercise. Her smile faded. _Former_ Master. 

With an eye on the little lump that had changed _everything_ , Rey lowered the leather sack perched on her shoulder to the floor. She moved quietly over to the fireplace, taking a moment to rebuild it to a cheerful blaze to cut the chill of the room. She was actually pretty good at this now. She remembered her first attempt at building a fire, when she had known next to nothing about constructing a functioning chimney or how dizzy smoke could make you; her former life as a desert scavenger in Jakku had taught her how to splice and repair circuitry and electromagnetic polarization systems – cooking fires weren't needed when all you had to eat were portions of reconstituted water-bread. She recalled nearly passing out from asphyxiation when she stubbornly tried to fan the smoke out of the rough-cut windows in the cabin, but luckily she saw reason when she heard tiny, heartbreaking coughs behind her, struggling valiantly to endure the polluted air right along with her. 

“Mama?” a tired voice rung out in the dark, breaking her from the memory. The furs and cloth shifted, and a pale face seemed to glow from the swath of muted materials by firelight. Her son's dark eyes connected with hers and she was overwhelmed with protective feelings, warring with her dismay that he really didn't resemble her at all anymore. Where she used to see her own stubborn chin and high cheekbones, she now could not help but notice the sharply winged eyebrows and full lower lip of his father. Even his coloring mimicked the paleness of his father, though his days spent in the sunny clearings around their cabin had colored the naturally sallow cast of his skin. He looked like a normal little boy of six years, except for his eyes. His eyes held a wariness that no boy his age should possess, though she imagined her orphan's eyes hadn't been much more of a comfort to anyone daring to look. When anyone you met could be a potential enemy, distrust meant survival.

“You should go back to sleep, Riku. It's late. I didn't mean to wake you.”

She watched with a wry smile from her place by the fire as the blankets were thrown back anyway and bare little feet hit the dirt floor. Riku straightened as he sat upright, rubbing the sleep from one dark eye. “It's okay. But I don't want to go back to sleep. I want to hear about it.”

“The outpost hasn't changed since the first time I told you about it. I don't know why you're so fascinated by it.”

“Please, Mama?” His fingers were gripping the bedding of the cot, his face a mix of eagerness and doe-eyed persuasion. He was becoming rather skilled at that.

She sighed. “Oh, alright. Just let me get comfortable first, and then I'll tell you all about the ore I sold today. It wasn't much, but I got a fair price for it.” She removed her outer cloak and was about to begin unlacing her boots when she heard his next question, laden with feigned nonchalance. 

“Did you see any ships today?” 

Ah. Now she understood. She met and held his dark gaze, her own hazel eyes trying to convey the gravity of the situation. “Riku...we're on our own, now. You know that, right? The Resistance isn't coming for us because it's too dangerous.”

“But...how will we know when it's not too dangerous? Won't Poe and Finn fly here in a ship to tell us?” His worried, crestfallen expression prompted her to leave her boots half-laced and move to sit down on the bedding beside him. She pulled him close to her side and rested her chin on the dark mop of hair that so resembled his father's. 

“It will always be dangerous as long as the First Order is around. We can't go back until the Resistance wins, and that might not be for a very long time.” She gently pushed him back to look at his face and make sure her words registered, lovingly brushing away a dark brown curl when his head lowered in sadness. “We have to move on with our lives, Riku. We can't wait for someone to rescue us. I know you don't love this planet and I'm sorry to make you stay in the woods, away from the other little boys at the outpost, but as soon as we have enough money to buy a ship...” She trailed off as Riku buried his face in her side again. 

He'd been so patient, obeying her wishes that he stay near the cabin even when other boys his age would be raging at the unfairness of it all. But he desperately missed his adoptive uncles, the best male role models he had in this war-torn universe. 

He undoubtedly missed his Gamma as well. Rey hadn't known what Riku should call the General, so she had attempted to teach him the woman's full title when he was three years old; it had, of course, all run together in his bell-like voice to form the word “Gamma”, which earned Rey a shrewd look from the woman. _“Gamma sounds like Grandma, doesn't it?”_ the General had mused. _“Han would have never let me live this down.”_

Later, as Riku got older and stopped resembling Rey, General Organa's shrewd looks seemed never-ending, though it was only recently that Rey had been forced to discuss Riku's parentage.

“I know I make a poor substitute for Poe and Finn--” Riku's head suddenly lifted, shaking emphatically.

“No, Mama, I'm glad we're together. I'm glad you didn't leave me.” He looked up at her with wet eyes and Rey's heart swelled. She had at least done that right. They may have been in hiding, forced to move from place to place and live in poverty, but at least she hadn't left him to fend for himself like her parents had done to her. 

“Mama...?” He was gazing at her intently, and his little hand stretched out slowly to touch her cheek. She stared at his frowning face in confusion a moment more until she felt a light tingling where his fingers made contact with her skin. 

Without warning, she swiftly snatched his fingers away from the scratch on her face. “No, Riku, we've discussed this! You can't do that, it's much too dangerous. No healing, not even to help me. Is that understood?” Her son paled at her sharp tone but nodded his head nervously. 

She hesitated, trying to still her suddenly racing heart at the innocent gesture. He had only been trying to help her. “We can't risk being discovered. You have to remember, all Force-users are connected. We know when the Force is being used and we can track people who use it. That's why, no matter how much it might help us, we have to refrain. It will only bring the Darksiders here to capture us, or worse, kill us. You don't want that, right?” She hated to manipulate his fear in such a way, but she needed him to understand the consequences of such a small action.

“No...I'm sorry, Mama. I'll remember, I promise.” He once again buried his face in her side, and Rey hugged him tightly. Once he had calmed a bit, she urged him back into bed and finished taking off her boots. She was too tired to do much else besides curl up around Riku on the cot, but when she closed her eyes, she dreamt of the past.

  


* * *

  


_The dark whispers echo around her head, goading, prodding. She clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut to block them out, but they just get louder when she tries to ignore them._

_'Come to me, Rey. You're so very tired of running. I can feel it. You want this to be over as much as I do.'_

_'No. NO!' she hisses, as she feels him pressing forcefully at the edges of her mind. She knows that if she lets down her guard for even a moment, Ren will exploit the weakness so fast that she'll be helpless to stop him. She slows her breathing, centering herself and feeling the Force flow over her like a cool stream over smooth rocks, like the thin tributaries that threaded around Luke Skywalker's modest dwelling on Ahch-To. She fortifies the wall around her mind, filling in the gaps where her desperation to be free of Ren has made her vulnerable. But she can't stop his voice, cajoling, distracting... like a sand viper hypnotizing its prey while making ready to strike._

_'I'll spare them, Rey. Your friends. They don't have to die. Come to me, willingly, and they'll live. Even the traitor.'_

_'You're lying,' she spits, but her mouth makes no sound, her voice only echoing out into an ephemeral mental landscape._

_'Am I? Is it worth the risk? What if I told you that I was closer than you think to finding your little den of thieves?'_

_She falters, allowing some of the Force to slip away from her when she should be pulling it ever closer. 'You wouldn't be trying so hard now if that were true. Leave me alone, stop...doing this.'_

_'Stop fighting me, then. Submit. Let me show you how things could be.' She feels a slow, lingering caress trace the line of her jaw, skimming gently across her collarbone. Her breath catches and a shudder ripples through her body at the touch. He's changing tactics._

_'You know they're using you, Rey. They rest all of their hopes on one bitter old man and pray that he'll look past his arrogance long enough to pass on his dying legacy. You are so much more than that.' The phantom touch inches downward from her collarbone to drag between the hollow of her breastbone. She doesn't breathe at all. 'The Jedi died out for a reason. They are nothing but relics now but I've learned all of their tricks. Let me show you...let me teach you the ways of the Dark Side, and you'll never need to run from anyone, ever again...'_

_'Stop it...' She can feel herself weakening with every word he utters. Somehow, he's ferreted out her secret fears, the whispering doubts that have led to so many sleepless nights and despairing thoughts. The Resistance treats her like she was supposed to save the universe; Luke Skywalker treats her like a reluctant pet that might turn on him at any moment. She guesses that she has Ren to thank for that._

_'Why? I want to help you reach your potential, Rey. I can feel your discontent, your loneliness. You don't have to--'_

_'STOP IT!' She drops her head in her hands, struggling to tame her emotions and failing. 'You're right, I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know if I'm strong enough to be a Jedi, or even if I'm supposed to be a Jedi. But I do know that the Dark Side is **wrong** , evil. I know that **you** want to use me just like the Resistance wants to use me. Just like Snoke uses you.'_

_'Snoke is a means to an end. And the Force can't be evil. That's just what Skywalker wants you to believe.'_

_'Well, Luke Skywalker is right about one thing.'_

_'Oh?'_

_'The Dark Side will try to seduce you, any way it can.' She feels the phantom touches reluctantly withdraw, and her breathing evens out just a bit in relief._

_'Rey, I know you think you know what you want, but really think about what I've said. Before it's too late.'_

_'Too late?' She senses his hesitation then and musters the mental energy to grasp his presence, to tease out the truth before he withdraws, 'Before it's too late for what, Ren?'_

_'Before the choice is taken from you.' She sits in stunned silence for a moment, trying to detect duplicity in his words. Was he really as close as he claimed to finding the Resistance base? In the time it takes to process his words, she feels him retreat from her with a whispered 'Soon...' resonating in the hallows of her mind._

_Her eyes open in the physical world, the breeze from the swirling, crashing ocean below gently ruffling the wisps of loose hair framing her face. She unerringly meets the narrowed blue gaze of the robed man sitting crossed-legged in front of her._

_Luke Skywalker watches her with the same edge of suspicion she witnessed when she first found him on Ahch-To, with a lightsaber held out to him in her outstretched hand._

_“Did you find the peace you were looking for?” Though he is referencing her earlier desire to meditate, she senses that there's something he's holding back. She wonders if he has any inkling of the conversation she just had with his erstwhile student. It is more than likely he sensed Kylo Ren's presence, if not his actual words, through the Force._

_She considers the question, and though she knows there is a more diplomatic answer, she settles on, “No,” and stands up from her place on the cliff summit overlooking the ocean. ”Maybe tomorrow,” she throws over her shoulder, and makes her way back to the stone-hewn hovel that she shares with her Jedi Master._

_Today is the first day in a long time that she wonders at that line in the Sith code she'd poured over in one of the books Luke thought he'd hidden from her._ Peace is a lie, there is only passion. _She can still feel Ren's touch on her collarbone, feels the heat that still suffuses her cheeks in embarrassment and something else, and knows that she will not be sleeping this eve nor possibly the next._

  


* * *

  


Rey woke with a start. Though she now kept her connection to the Force extremely limited, she knew immediately that something was wrong. She scrabbled beneath the furs, trying to lay hands on the warm body of her son who should have been curled up beside her. Several seconds of searching yielded nothing and panic catapulted her up and out of bed in a heartbeat. “Riku?” she called out in a shaky voice.

“Mama, look!” Her eyes alighted on his barefoot form at the window, his handsome little face smiling back at her with genuine excitement. “It's a ship! Poe and Finn found us!” 

It took only seconds for her relief to turn to dread. She heard it now, the sound of branches whipping against the trees from a great wind and a low hum that could only be attributed to an aeropropulsion landing system. She raced over to Riku's side and lifted the heavy material covering the windows higher.

Quickly, she backed away, drawing Riku with her. There was no question of what the ship signified - it was sleek, black, and bore the crest of the First Order on the tip of one wing. They had been found. 

“Riku, I need you to listen closely, okay?” She leaned down and gripped him by his small shoulders, trying not to squeeze too hard in her panic. “I need to go outside and talk to them. That's not Poe or Finn – it's the First Order. Don't be scared,” she added softly when his eyes widened fearfully, “I'll be right behind you. But I need to know you're safe first. When I turn on my lightsaber, I want you to climb out the south-facing window and run to the clearing by the caves. Run as fast as you can. Do you understand?” He nodded quickly and she released him, not allowing herself to indulge in the tears that pricked at her eyes. She needed to put on a strong face in front of him; it might be the last time she ever saw him. She leaned down and kissed his forehead as she so often did when she left for the day, trying to make things appear as normal as possible so as not to alarm him too much. If he hesitated, they would be on him in a second.

The drone of the engines outside began to fade and she knew it was time to face what was waiting for her. She had no idea how many Stormtroopers there might be, but she would fight until she was unable to hold a lightsaber. With a last reassuring glance back at Riku, she opened the door and stepped outside, shutting it firmly behind her.

A hatch was opening at the front of the ship, a metal gangway smoothly locking into place as it slid to the ground. Rey unclipped her lightsaber, holding it out at her side in anticipation. The sooner she could end this, the better chance they had to leave before more came. She was already trying to classify the ship in front of her, mentally calculating the number of thrusters she saw and the chances that a sole pilot might be able to fly it out of the clearing in one piece. 

She heard an obscured voice then, deep and mechanized, and nearly dropped her lightsaber in shock. 

“No. Stay here and wait for my command,” the voice intoned from just inside the ship. _It couldn't be..._

But sure enough, stalking down the gangway was none other than Kylo Ren, Lord Commander of the Knights of Ren and the new Supreme Leader of the conquered galaxy. He cut an intimidating figure as always, swathed in black from head to toe, his uniform unchanged despite his ascension. 

He walked forward a few paces in his normal predatory gait, fists clenched, attention trained solely on her. His hand wasn't yet on his saber. “Rey of Jakku, Jedi apprentice of Luke Skywalker, enemy of the First Order and peace in the galaxy--”

“I thought peace was a lie?” she cut in flippantly. 

He merely tilted his masked head and continued in the artificially-modulated voice as if he hadn't been interrupted. “You are hereby found guilty of treason, aiding and abetting criminals of the First Order, resisting capture, and practicing the forbidden arts of a long-dead zealot group. How do you plead?”

Despite the terror stiffening her limbs, she couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Oh, I don't know, not guilty?” Timing here was crucial. She couldn't fire up her lightsaber until she was sure that Ren would be distracted long enough to miss any noises Riku made as he dashed for safety. 

She tried not to think of her chances of success now that the First Order's Supreme Leader was standing before her, presumably with backup waiting in his ship. It made sense though that he'd asked his men to wait behind; Ren always took every saber fight he had with Rey personally and would likely kill anyone who got in between them, ally or not. 

She took a step forward and raised her lightsaber with both hands, squeezing the hilt. In response, one of Ren's hands unclenched, hovering now over his own volatile weapon. 

“Yield,” was all his artificially modulated voice said but she felt the live wire that was his connection with the Force crackling around them. For the first time in years, Rey opened the floodgates firmly kept shut for so long, feeling the Light side of the Force suffuse her being with lost power. How had she ever survived without this? But she knew the answer to that question almost immediately: Riku. He had been her Light, her warmth.

Breathing as steadily as she could manage, she gracefully arced her body into the first defensive form of the Jedi. She would make him come to her. The second he was close enough to strike, she would turn on her lightsaber to engage him and cue Riku to run. Ren's stance changed slightly then, leaning his weight onto his dominant foot as he readied himself and concealed his weaker left flank. 

She knew that tell of his. He was preparing for a burst of energy and speed, and though Rey was still likely faster than he, her control of the Force had suffered in her exile. Even now it felt wild and unfettered as it pulsed through her, but she hadn't slacked on the meditation exercises Luke taught her, even without the connection to the Force and her years away from training. She felt her focus narrow like the viewfinder of a pair of macrobinoculars. She cleared her mind of everything but her opponent standing in front of her.

_'So you haven't been honing your strength with the old man, all this time?'_

She grimaced as she realized that her thoughts were now open to him again, the odd bond they'd formed back on Starkiller Base throbbing again in her mind like it had always been. “Stay out of my head and fight me, Kylo Ren.”

And before she had even finished the sentence, the man in question sprung into action and bolted to his right, not forward like Rey had been anticipating. She stood in place all of three seconds before she came to her senses and dashed in a diagonal to try and cut him off. But his long legs covered so much ground in so little time that she didn't have a hope to catch him with his head start. She didn't trust herself to Force-hold him with her command of the Force still rusty from disuse. Still, she ignited her lightsaber as she chased after him, angry yet puzzled about why he would come all of this way to run, rather than confront her. 

The answer became clear as she suddenly became aware of his trajectory and heard the rustling of leaves up ahead. In her panic, Rey made a grave error as she saw the back of her son's raven-dark head bobbing quickly through the foliage, Kylo Ren right behind him and closing in like a snarling rancor. 

“Riku!” she cried out, and in that moment she saw Riku pause and turn to look at her, his worried face trying to determine the reason for her distress. That was all the time Ren needed to get close enough to freeze the boy where he stood. And as she skidded to a stop before them, Ren raised his other hand and froze her as well. 

He wielded the Force with the ease of a Master. Riku was struggling against his hold, but she knew he had little hope of breaking free. The new Supreme Leader was focusing most of his efforts on Rey because of this; the unnecessary hand holding Riku in place raised slowly to a small device on his collar. Riku's wild eyes connected with Rey's in fear and...something else. Was that guilt she sensed from him?

“Send a squad behind the cabin. And have them bring two sets of restraints.” Ren's hand lowered and slowly the black and chrome helmet turned to regard Riku, ignoring Rey behind him. His attention seemed lost in observing her son, and she desperately tried to think of anything, anything, that she could say to redirect his gaze. 

“Let the boy go, Ren. He's just a local kid who helps me from time to time, he doesn't deserve to be caught up in this.”

She was at least successful in distracting him, because his masked gaze swung over in her direction like it was attached to a ball bearing. He took a couple of measured steps toward her, then began circling her frozen form. _'You would lie to me now, when he is standing before me, wearing my face?'_ his true, husky voice echoed calmly in her mind. 

She was silent then, because now her terror had finally overcome her resolve to make it off-planet with Riku. He knew. Anyone who had seen the true face of Kylo Ren would know if the two stood side by side, but Rey had hoped that Ren's desire to capture her would keep him too occupied to notice. 

Behind her, she heard the lumbering, military shuffle of Stormtroopers making their way through the foliage. Ren turned from her and approached the rooted figure of her son, bending down a little to account for the vast difference in height. He still towered over the boy, and the sight of his menacing visage so close to her reason for living gave her chills. But his next words drained every bit of blood from her face. 

“Don't be afraid, Riku.” His voice sounded almost kind, if you could detect kindness through a voice modulator. “I told you, I would never hurt you. Your mother and I just need to have a little talk. Then, later, I'll show you how to do what I just did. There is much that you must learn. But for now, sleep.”

“Wha--” is all Riku managed to get out before Ren manipulated the electromagnetic field in his brain with the Force, causing him to black out. Without pause, he swept the boy up into his arms before he could hit the forest floor, just as the Stormtroopers came into view. 

“Sir?” The captain of the squad stepped up, the blazing scarlet of his right pauldron emblazoned with the symbol of the First Order. That was new.

“Take him—carefully—to my quarters on the ship. Restrain him once you've secured him there.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader!” responded the captain, unclipping a set of restraints and carefully collecting the boy. Ren tracked the captain's return to the ship silently before he finally turned back to Rey. 

“You know him,” Rey accused weakly. “How?”

“You told him to stop using the Force, and he tried. But it flows through his veins more strongly than it ever did for you or I. It only gets stronger with each passing day. I felt him, spoke to him, guided him. He was lonely, and you were away. If you had allowed yourself to connect with the Force, you would have felt it.” He took a sinister step forward until he was less than a hands width away from her, close enough to hear him breathing softly through his modulator. His hand rose and casually brushed away a lock of hair clinging to her face that had escaped the low bun at the nape of her neck. If she hadn't been frozen stock-still in a Force-hold, she may have embarrassed herself by trembling at the brief touch.

“How long?” she whispered, partly because of how close he was, and partly because fear was still making her heart race. 

“3 cycles ago. Shortly after you arrived on this trash heap of a planet. He hates it, by the way.” He was still standing so close, and she nervously glanced at the squad of Stormtroopers waiting patiently behind him. There was no one to tell Kylo Ren to hurry things along or to stop playing with her like a rat in a trap; he was the Supreme Leader now, the only authority in the First Order that answered to no one.

“Why didn't he tell me? What did you threaten him with?” she demanded through clenched teeth.

“Nothing. I simply told him who I was, and that I thought he was skilled enough to hide his use of the Force from you. I was right.”

“You mean you manipulated him.”

“It is better than telling him the First Order would murder him in his sleep. Do you really think I would have allowed that? That I would let anyone lay a hand on my _son_?”

Until now, the truth of Riku's origin had been kept relatively vague in front of their audience, but Rey noticed that the Stormtroopers didn't even react to the revelation. In fact, they barely moved at all, almost as if they were imitating droids. But she knew for a fact that flesh and bone resided within those gleaming white suits of armor. Her thoughts touched on Finn then, on his warm smile and strong arms as they hugged her goodbye, before they left the protection of the Resistance to protect it from her pursuers. 

Suddenly, Ren's gloved hand seized her arm, squeezing painfully. “I'll enjoy killing that traitor slowly,” he sneered. _There_ was the Kylo Ren she knew. She'd been waiting for him to start with the anger and the threats, but now she struggled to shield her thoughts from him.

“You'll break Riku's heart if you do. He'll never forgive you.” 

“He will. Heartache will make him stronger.” 

Rey's eyes narrowed at that, sure that he wasn't just talking about Riku, but also angry that he planned to teach his broken set of Dark Force principles to a six year old child. “You're a monster. Nothing's changed, I don't care how fancy your title is.” She knew she was poking the sleeping rathtar, but she couldn't get over her disquiet. An image flashed through her mind: Riku, dressed in black and wielding a deadly red lightsaber. 

Kylo Ren didn't say anything else in reply. He simply held out his hand and a Stormtrooper placed a set of restraints into his open palm. He snapped the metal band around one of her wrists and, deftly manipulating the Force, released her free arm from the Force-hold in order to maneuver it into the other restraint. The warm hum of power that had been such an unexpected comfort when she'd initially reopened the connection was suddenly sapped from her being, leaving her with the feeling of immense loss and emptiness. It hurt just as much as it did when she'd inflicted the loss on herself years ago.

As Ren released her entirely from the Force-hold, several Stormtroopers trained their weapons on her as a precaution. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she would have smirked at them. She didn't put it past them to fearfully react with blaster rounds if she abruptly rushed them in order to escape, but Ren would almost certainly interfere before they managed to harm her. It was ironic; she was so afraid of being at his mercy but knew to the depths of her soul that he didn't really want to kill her. She might rot in a cell for all eternity instead, but she had the small comfort of knowing that she would be alive to suffer it. 

“Take her to the hold and lock her in,” Ren commanded imperiously and strode quickly in the direction of the ship, leaving the Stormtroopers to reassemble themselves in formation. One urged her forward with the butt of a blaster rifle. Maybe Ren did plan on keeping her in a cell forever. 

Rounding the corner of the cabin she had shared with Riku, her threatening entourage steps behind her, she couldn't help the panic that rose up in her throat. As she neared the looming First Order ship, the entryway yawned open like the maw of an ominous beast. 

'How appropriate,' she thought dismally as she marched to her imprisonment like a bantha to the slaughter. 'All these years avoiding the monsters at our heels, only to be swallowed whole.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me forever to work up the nerve to publish this. I'll likely need to up the rating in a few chapters because...that's how my Reylo rolls. :D


	2. Chapter 2

_“Finn...I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate.”_

_The ex-Stormtrooper looks up at Rey from his seat behind a table laden with an impressive array of blasters, flash grenades, and other various weaponry. Her son is perched on one of his knees, just tall enough to see over the edge of the table._

_“What? He should probably know their names if he's going to learn to use one someday. You know, since you don't plan on teaching him your Jedi-wizardry,” he remarks with a sly look. Finn turns Riku as he smiles warmly down at him. “Isn't that right, Riku? You're going to be the greatest Resistance fighter that ever lived, aren't you?” He lowers his voice conspiratorially and sneaks a glance at the stacks across the room. “You're not really interested in all of that boring, showboating pilot stuff, right?”_

_“I heard that,” Poe calls irritably from somewhere among the many rows of metal shelving units taking up most of the storage room. Poe and Finn had been assigned inventory duty and had been at it for most of the day. Finn, because his knowledge of tactical weaponry was unsurpassed by most of his peers on the base, and Poe, because he had volunteered to help while his X-Wing was grounded for repairs. Rey, feeling uncomfortable under the covert stares and constant scrutiny of the curious and suspicious Resistance base populace had taken refuge with them, fiddling with the inner workings of her lightsaber. There was nothing to fix really, but she took comfort in familiarizing herself with all of its various components should it ever malfunction. It could mean the difference between life and death._

_“I'm just helping the kid make an educated decision,” Finn groused. “No need to get your flight suit all in a bunch, flyboy.”_

_“First of all,” Poe says as he rounds the corner of one of the shelves, one hand on his hip and the other holding a clipboard. “I do **not** showboat.” Both Rey and Finn look at him dubiously, and he huffs. “Second, my flight suit is always immaculate. And third, the kid is four. He's lucky to remember how to count at this age, and you think he's going to remember all that munitions mumbo jumbo?”_

_“I learned it at this age. All Stormtroopers did.”_

_Poe seems to realize then how delicate the topic could become. “That's different, Finn. You were snatched up from your parents and forced into supervillain Stormtrooper bootcamp. Let the kid be a kid for a while before you teach him how to play with toys that kill, okay?” Poe lays a gentle hand on Finn's shoulder, and Finn deflates a little._

_“Yeah, I get it.”_

_Riku takes that as his cue to tug on Finn's vest to get his attention. “Unc Finn, what's showboating?” The expression on the dusky man's face morphs mischievously as he grins at Poe. Rey stifles a snort._

_“Oh, I think your Uncle Poe can tell you allllll about that.” Finn winks at Riku. “He's the best showboater there is.”_

_Poe tilts his head back dramatically toward the low ceiling, exasperated, clipboard still gripped in one fist. “So unappreciated here. It's criminal, really.” He shakes his head and leans down in front of Riku. “How 'bout it, kid? Want to help your Uncle Poe inventory some food rations? I think there's a pack of chloro-sweet cubes in Section 17 with your name on it. I won't tell if you won't.” Poe playfully taps the boy's nose, who laughs in delight then struggles to let himself down from Finn's knee._

_“Whoa there, short stuff,” Finn chuckles. “Give me a second to help.” Once Riku's feet touch the ground, he takes off running ahead of Poe who ambles after him in his usual saunter._

_Rey sighs as she watches them disappear behind a shelf at the far end of the room. “I'm not sure teaching Riku to steal food from the Resistance is much better, but I guess I should be grateful that he's enjoying himself.”_

_“He's a good kid. Way more well-behaved than the other kids on the base, that's for sure.”_

_“That's because the other children are scared of him. He doesn't have any friends to pick up bad habits from.”_

_Finn doesn't try to disagree. “Yeah, well, it means he won't get picked on. Trust me, sometimes it's better to be feared than turned into target practice.”_

_Rey gives Finn a sidelong glance. “You don't really mean that.”_

_The ex-Stormtrooper holds Rey's gaze for a long moment, then exhales forcefully. “No, not really. But it'll get better. Once he gets older and people realize that he's not...”_

_“Dangerous,” Rey finishes._

_Finn nods. “He's never done anything to hurt anyone so far. In fact, I think he's a born pacifist. Don't ever try to kill a rockspider in front of that kid—he cried for an hour.” He tips his chair back, balancing his weight on its back legs, regarding her. “Was it like that for you? Did...did your powers show themselves like that?”_

_“No. I mean, I always had a strange sort of intuition when it came to danger. I always seemed to sense when someone was trying to do me harm or was planning to steal my scavenges. It saved my life more than a few times. But no, I never knew how to instinctively levitate objects. If I had, my life on Jakku would have been so much different.”_

_“Yeah, not to mention that you probably would've levitated Lord Rage into the nearest stone wall when you met him.”_

_“Finn...”_

_“Just because that asshole managed to saddle you with a kid--who happens to be amazing, if you didn't already know,” he adds with an illustrative point of a finger, “doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve a little brain damage. Might clear that uncontrollable violence issue right up.”_

_“Finn, please.” Rey anxiously watches the storage room doorway and feels relief that no one is lurking in the hallway that she can see._

_“Sorry. But he isn't raising Riku. You are. And with you as his mother, Riku can't help but be good. I know you worry about it, but no one knows a thing about his origins besides you, me, and Poe. And you know we won't let him turn Dark.”_

_She feels overwhelmed by his confidence in her, and in Riku. It's still hard to believe even now that she isn't alone in the universe anymore, that she has more than just the specter of a spacecruiser disappearing into the atmosphere to call family._

_“Thank you, Finn.” Her smile is genuine, and he responds with one of his own. She feels her cheeks warming, but tamps it down. As close as she and Finn have become, things have never quite progressed beyond a warm hug and a tight clutch of hands. She suspects it has something to do with the pilot lost amongst the shelves of supplies with her son, likely feeding him enough chloro-sweets to ruin his dinner._

_“Don't mention it, Rey.”_

_They work in near silence after that though she can hear Poe and her son's voice echoing back to them occasionally. An hour or so later, Poe hands off a sleeping Riku to Rey. “Burned himself out,” he whispers. “Sugar, gotta love it.”_

_Another hour passes, and she starts to feel something settle in the back of her mind, like an itch. She can't pinpoint it, but its insistence drives her to put aside her lightsaber and begin to pace the long length of the room. She passes a hunched over Poe a few times taking stock of a large container before he pokes his head out from one of the rows. “You okay, Sun-Rey? Need some air?”_

_“I don't know, I just can't sit down. I feel like something--” She stops abruptly as she hears voices. She and Poe exchange glances and make their way back briskly to where Finn is now standing, talking to an aide she recognizes as one of the General's personal staff._

_“Here she is,” Finn is saying, but Rey can only focus on the grim expression on the aide's face._

_“Rey,” the blond man states officially. “I need you to come with me. General Organa requests your presence immediately. Also,” the aide looks at Poe and Finn in turn, “you gentleman need to report to your respective units. The base is undergoing a Code Blue.”_

_“Code Blue?” Poe questions. “Half our fleet is out on reconnaissance and they haven't reported in yet. I can't guarantee that our blindspots will be covered if we do a flyby.”_

_“I'm just relaying orders, Captain. Admiral Ackbar is waiting for you in the hangar to discuss details.”_

_Poe gives a perfunctory nod and makes eye contact with Finn and Rey before he brushes past the aide to meet the Admiral. Finn gathers his personal blaster weapon from the corner of the room before he follows, squeezing Rey's hand as he passes her to leave. The itch at the back of her mind feels almost painful now. She knows it has to do with the Force, that its trying to tell her something, but she can't decipher exactly what that something is._

_“Can you tell me what this is about?” Rey queries._

_“Only that we've just received new intelligence. Worrying intelligence. The General needs to speak with you as soon as possible.”_

_She gently picks up Riku from his makeshift bed on several sacks of grain along the wall, cradling him carefully so as not to wake him. “I need to drop Riku off at my room first,” she insists quietly._

_The aide eyes the sleeping boy, and Rey doesn't miss the cautious flicker in his gaze before he shutters it behind a mask of professionalism. “Bring him. The General assumed you would both be present, actually.”_

_Rey tries and fails to keep down the alarm that suddenly bubbles up inside her. If whatever the General has to say involves both her and Riku, that certainly doesn't bode well._

_As she follows the aide out the doorway and into the hallway beyond, she suddenly remembers the conversation she just had with Finn about intuition. Luke had always said the Force works in mysterious ways. So far it had been nothing but trouble._  


* * *

  
  
Rey's eyes flew open at the sound of approaching footsteps. Her hands were still locked in Force-draining restraints, secured overhead to a beam in the hold just low enough to allow her arms some slack. It was entirely uncomfortable and had taken a bit of wriggling to find a position that didn't make her shoulders burn, perched as she was at the edge of a chilly metal bench eventually warmed by her body heat. Small miracles. 

She'd been left here thusly for at least two hours without a visitor or stray sound to keep her company. Rey idly wondered if Ren had ordered the Stormtroopers to stay away from the hold completely, as if the restraints might suddenly fail and give her the chance she needed to influence their minds against him. A quick pull of her wrists in the solid metal bands disabused her of the notion. Until this day, she hadn't even known there existed a substance that could dampen her Force powers. Yet another thing that Luke Skywalker had failed to teach her before she left. 

She arranged her face into a passive expression just as the door slid open, revealing a masked Kylo Ren in full military regalia. After a moment's pause, he stepped into the tiny room. 

Ren's towering frame took up most of the available space and though it rankled her, she had to crane her neck to look at the place on his mask where his eyes should be. He regarded her silently in the dim light. She struggled to keep her emotions at bay as she waited him out. She would rather throw herself out the airlock than speak first.

“You changed your hair.”

The undignified snort that burst out of her was inappropriate for the moment, but so was the statement. It was so mundane, so normal. It didn't reflect at all the tense nature of their relationship.

“You haven't changed at all. I guess the First Order doesn't have a budget for wardrobe. Too busy investing in weapons that kill billions.” 

It wasn't really what she wanted to say; her despair regarding her predicament and anxiety over Riku's well-being had found her choking back sobs the moment she'd been left alone. That hadn't changed, but she had calmed herself enough to remember that Ren despised weakness. In fact, her refusal to back down was likely the reason his fascination with her had turned obsessive, rather than just resulting in her murder. Of course, her once-latent Force powers had something to do with that as well, and now, Riku. The only strategy left to her was to keep him unbalanced.

His helmet affected a contemplative tilt. “That's what monsters do after all, is it not? Kill indiscriminately. I'm sure every single one of the men and women who died on Starkiller were monsters that deserved it, too.”

Rey forced her eyes away from the black and chrome mask, not willing to further engage in his favorite line of discussion—second only to the topic of her capitulation: that the Resistance was just as guilty as the First Order when it came to human life. She turned back in surprise when she heard a rustle of fabric, startled to see Ren crouching in front of her. The light shone dully on the smooth carbon-alloy surface hiding his face.

“I've come here to discuss the conditions of your surrender.”

Her mouth dropped open incredulously. “Conditions?” She rattled the striated metal bonds above her head. “I was under the impression that these meant that I was royally screwed. And we both know that I was nowhere close to surrendering.”

“Perhaps my phrasing was too soft. I've come to deliver your sentencing.”

She quieted. Here it was, the moment that she'd feared and dreaded with her entire being. The dramatic conclusion to years of running and denying the gifts of her blood, of resolutely refusing to dwell long on the tumultuous events of the past in favor of building a future with Riku.

“The boy will be removed from your custody.” Ren's modulated voice spoke as if he were discussing the fate of a fleet of TIE fighters. “His upbringing and training are no longer your concern. You will be allowed regular supervised visits, at my discretion of course. But that all depends on your compliance.”

The air had seemed to disappear from her lungs with the first few words he uttered, but she somehow found the breath to croak out, “Compliance?”

“As Supreme Leader, I command the highest authority in the First Order. I have no equal, in power or prowess on the battlefield. I have seized this authority through strength, blood, and action. Those who have sought to oppose me politically have been crushed or subdued, and those who thought to challenge me through combat or assassination have long since been scrubbed from the durasteel floors. That does not mean, however, that I lack enemies. I might be able to read the minds of those around me, but I cannot anticipate the actions of those who are not.” 

Try as she might, Rey could not follow the reasoning behind Ren's simultaneous profession of strength and confession of vulnerability. She wanted nothing more than to rail against the limitations he had placed on seeing Riku, but could not help but wonder where all of this was going. 

“For this reason, I have made sure to choose my direct subordinates wisely. I have made sure that only those whose loyalty can be assured be allowed close.”

“That sounds like a wonderfully lonely existence.” She had meant to mock him, but his response didn't reflect insult.

“Precisely.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “What does this have to do with me? I am anything but loyal to you.”

“You are predictable. There is a kind of loyalty in that. But we are also connected through the Force, regardless of where we are respectively. The bond between us is burgeoning, but effective. If we were to strengthen it—”

“Wait,” Rey couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth, “Why would I do that? I spent the last six years _running_ from you. I severed my connection to the Force to keep you from invading my thoughts and tracking me like an animal. And then you used my son, lured him, manipulated him...he's only six! He didn't understand what he was doing, how this would hurt us. He didn't realize who you really are, _what_ you really are, and if you think--“ 

Her unintended outburst trailed off as Ren reached up to hook his fingers beneath his mask. There was a hydraulic hiss as he lifted the black and chrome helmet off with both hands, still crouched in front of her. 

His face...she was unprepared for the emotion it engendered. Handsome still, in his unconventional way, the long lines matured by the slight creases along his mouth and around his eyes. His gaze was just as piercing as it ever was, fathomless and dark and pinning her in place more effectively than the restraints holding her. The angry wound she'd given him on Starkiller base still bisected his pallid features in a diagonal slash but had long since healed to a pale, shiny coral. It had never really detracted from his overall physical appeal, much to Rey's consternation.

“I have no intention of harming him. He will have the best tutors the civilized galaxy can offer and I will personally see to his combat training. Never again will he have to wonder from where his next meal will come, or live among dust, squalor, and criminals. He will want for nothing.”

Rey couldn't keep the anger from her voice. “You say this as if it's a comfort, like a full belly will negate the fact that you plan to indoctrinate him with hate and keep him from me.”

His gaze intensified then, and she knew from experience that he was about to say something she didn't like. “As I said before, your rights to see the boy depend upon your compliance.”

“And what does 'compliance' look like, Ren? Embracing the Dark? Murdering innocents for the First Order?”

His lips twisted in a rare, wry smile before his fingers lifted to gently touch the curve of her jaw, the span of his gloved hand so large that his thumb rested in the hollow of her throat. She stopped breathing. “Submission.” 

Her lips parted after a few beats to stutteringly draw breath again. She waited for him to elaborate as he lightly stroked the skin beneath his thumb. 

“You have the luxury of choice, Rey. I require a companion who has no ties to the politics within the First Order, nor one that could be corrupted and used against me. You have no appetite for deceit. In fact,” his eyes held humor even if his mouth did not, “you wear your righteousness like armor. If you comply, you will be allowed to see the boy at least once a day. You will be given guest rooms near my own personal living quarters, regular meals, clothing befitting your station. Your days will be free to spend as you please within your rooms. Eventually that freedom may extend beyond, but a Force-dampening collar will be mandatory in either case.” 

Her shortness of breath returned. “You'd collar me...like chattel.” It wasn't a question, and her stomach fluttered queasily as he continued to caress her skin with his thumb. He was watching his own movements with rapt attention, glancing between her wary expression and the way his leather-clad hand curled around her neck like an imitation of the aforementioned collar. 

“It would be much like the restraints you're wearing now, to a slightly lesser degree. We should be able to communicate and sense each others presence within the Force, but that will be the extent of your Force powers. I've had the engineers develop a few prototypes of varying alloy strengths for testing. Their lives depend on their success, so I suspect we'll have a working prototype soon.”

“Is--Is that all?” Rey forced out. “You just want me to stay in my rooms and behave?” His fingers squeezed tighter in response then, just barely, enough to feel the skin of her throat yield significantly to his touch. 

“Your evenings will be spent with me, as my responsibilities permit. As you may have guessed, my interest in you is not limited to just conversation.” His hand crept lower, lightly trailing along the frayed edges of her tunic. Her heart raced. She always knew this was a possibility, knew that the attraction between them had endured since their first meeting on Starkiller base. It had continued throughout her brief incarceration on Moraband, and later on the First Order's flagship vessel, the _Finalizer_. She had been naive to hope that he might have gotten over it, that he wouldn't try to corner her in such a way. She had desperately clung to the belief that his reasons for chasing her across the galaxy had ultimately been about adding her power to his own. 

“You're making me choose between losing Riku or losing...myself. You want to cripple me, _collar_ me, force me to be your...” Rey couldn't bear to say the word she was really thinking. “...your companion. Why pretend all of this time that you wanted to turn me Dark?” 

“At the time, I was convinced that I needed your strength to defeat Snoke. In truth, I only needed proper motivation. I no longer require a fierce comrade-in-arms to topple my enemies. I am content being the supreme power in the galaxy. Not even your Master Jedi could defeat me now.” His smug tone made her stomach churn, mostly because she feared he was right. 

“And if I refuse?”

“Then your entire world will shrink down to the four walls of a prison cell. Again. The boy will not be allowed to visit a convicted criminal of the First Order.” His hand finally dropped away from her neck to rest back on the black helmet. He still watched her like the predator he was as he awaited her response, but he seemed willing to allow her space to decide.

“Do I have to choose now?” 

His mouth thinned into a disappointed line, but at the very least it wasn't cruel. “No. We are approaching the Destroyer now. You'll be transferred there shortly to begin our return. You have until we reach the _Finalizer_ to decide your fate.” 

He unfolded his long limbs to stand, gripping his helmet between both hands and looking down on her with an inscrutable expression on his pale face. With unhurried motions and a quiet mechanized whir, his face disappeared behind the mask once again as he approached the door. His palm touched the panel on the wall and the door whooshed open. He hesitated and turned back to her.

“Choose wisely, Rey. I would not relish depriving our son of his mother. But I will do whatever is necessary to ensure he reaches his potential.” With that, he left her to the silence of the hold. His presence reminded her of a thundercloud passing over the sun, and only now was the sun unveiled and she was able to think clearly again.

Her fingers, which had been clenched around the corded bonds of the restraints the entire time, finally loosened. The pins and needles she felt as blood flow returned grounded her. Ren had presented this farce of an offer because he thought her weak. Weak because of the clear divergence of their positions. Weak because she had allowed herself and Riku to be captured. Weak because she had plateaued in her abilities with the Force. Weak because she was still affected by his touch. 

He wasn't even interested in her Force powers anymore, though that truly surprised her given how much of their previous interactions centered around his attempts to corrupt her. He thought her so unworthy, so _beneath_ him, that the only use he saw for her was that of a vessel for his lusts. She had once been a nobody junk rat on Jakku, but her life had been her own then. Never was she someone's toy, someone's trophy to be used and discarded on their whim. 

She may be out of options here, but she was not _weak_. She hadn't survived as a child in the harsh deserts of Jakku or even made it off the dusty planet with a fugitive in tow and the First order at her heels because she was weak. Nor had she escaped the _Finalizer_ alone and eventually raised her adversary's child because she lacked strength. She would show Kylo Ren just how weak she was! 

But there was, of course, Riku to consider. She believed Ren when he said that he wouldn't harm the child, though he was obviously not taking into account the emotional damage that he would inflict by training a boy of six to kill. Riku was his legacy and Ren would do his best to hone him in his image. Her sweet, somber-eyed son would be raised by a man who had murdered his own father with a lightsaber if she didn't find a way out of this for both of them. Ren's use of the Force-dampening restraints had been a stroke of dark genius; she was effectively helpless to stop him from corrupting her child. 

She couldn't use Riku to help them escape. Even if she tried to use the Force to communicate with him, Ren had but to peek inside the boy's head to read her intentions. No, the only way out of this was to somehow be free of the collar Ren was dying to outfit her with. Her teeth clenched at the thought. He was clearly basking in the afterglow of his victory over her, though also not willing to risk a repeat of events from her last departure from the _Finalizer_. How then did she convince him to take the infernal thing off long enough to execute a plan of escape?

The solution occurred to her as a memory assaulted her mind.  


* * *

  
_“Rey, please, stop.”_

_But the tears don't stop. She feels the raw emotion burning it's way through her like lightening, manifesting itself in hot rivulets from her eyes. She has never cried so hard before, but her mouth does not make a sound even though it hurts so very much to feel._

_His grip on her shoulders remains firm. Anchoring._

_“I can't,” she finally gasps. “I almost...Gods...” Her head collapses onto the rough panel of his military uniform as silent sobs shake her to the core. He doesn't hesitate to pull her closer._

_“Through passion, I gain strength,” he tells her as his head bows to whisper softly in her ear. “Through strength, I gain power. Through power--”_

_“No!” she screams, pushing him away with her hands because she did not dare use the Force again in such a volatile state. “You're trying to confuse me...you **made** this happen. You're glad that you've turned me into this violent, angry...thing.”_

_“You've only just begun to understand the power that rests within you. The potential you've merely glimpsed, if only you would embrace it,” he says in hushed tones._

_“You wanted me to kill him.”You tried to **make** me kill him.” _

_“He would have killed you. He would not have stopped until he had crushed you beneath his fists, Rey.”_

_She squeezes her eyes shut as she sees again the shiny white armor of the crazed Stormtrooper barreling towards her. His heaved breaths distorted through his helmet, the odd crackling rumble that grew in pitch until it could only be described as a menacing growl. Like an animal._

_“Something was wrong with him. He was bloodthirsty, inhuman. Stormtroopers are just men in suits of armor. All I felt from him was rage. No thoughts, no fear. Only a desire to kill.”_

_“His mind was touched by Dark power.”_

_“By you?” Her eyes try to flay him alive with accusation._

_“No. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.”_

_“So even the old monster wants me to murder innocent people. I suppose I should be flattered.” She is starting to feel a little more in control of herself, but her body feels worn out and hollow. She crosses her arms to grip her elbows in an effort to ward off the chill. She is staring now at the cauterized gore laying on the_ Finalizer _'s training room floor. It is all neatly contained within the Stormtrooper's armor, but the two halves of the body are glistening darkly where the flesh is still smoldering from Kylo Ren's lightsaber. She is so engrossed in the horror of the scene before her that she doesn't notice his approach._

_Gloved fingers lightly smooth over her cheek to wipe the tears from beneath one eye. “I know it means nothing to you, Rey, but this is not the way I desired to introduce you to the Dark.”_

_She raises her eyes to his, glad that he has decided to forego his mask. She can see the kernel of truth in his gaze. Kylo Ren was many things, a murderer and egomaniac not the least of his crimes, but he was not a competent actor without his mask. He meant what he said._

_“You still want to ruin me.” A thought infiltrates and her hand suddenly lifts to her mouth in horror. “I am, aren't I?”_

_“What?” He asks, and it reminds her how near he is._

_“Ruined,” she answers mournfully. “Jedi aren't supposed to feel this kind of rage. You've ruined the Light for me with this.”_

_He stares hard into her eyes then, and she feels the barest whisper of the Force sparking around them. One hand gently cups the back of her head, while the other takes hold of her chin._

_“No, Rey,” he murmurs reverently. She can't look away. He won't allow it. “No. The Light is still as blinding within you as it ever was.” He lowers his head and his full lips are but a hairsbreadth from hers. “It burns.”_

_And then all she can do is feel._  


* * *

  
Ren's weakness was the Light. He craved it. It was why he killed Han Solo, and why he had tried so hard to steep himself in Dark deeds. And though she had never made the connection before—she'd done her best to purge herself of the disruptive memories in order to move on with her life—part of the reason Kylo Ren wanted her was attributed to the fact that she was the last sliver of Light available to him. He must have been unaware of it himself, obsessed as he'd been with turning her Dark side, but now was her chance to capitalize on that weakness.

Ren thought Rey incapable of deceit, and he might have been right that it wasn't in her to orchestrate some grand political intrigue to crumble the First Order from within. But maybe she had a shot at tempting him with the Light in order to secure her freedom. It wouldn't be an easy or quick strategy, and with Riku in the midst of things, it would be dangerous. She had faced worse odds before though.

She felt the sudden lurch of the hyperdrive disengaging and shifted in resignation on the metal bench. Soon, Stormtroopers would arrive to escort her to the Destroyer, like the prisoner she was. She idly wondered if Ren was planning on personally taking Riku aboard. That was a likely assumption given the destiny Ren planned to thrust upon her son. She couldn't let that come to pass, for Riku's sake, or the galaxy's. She didn't think either was likely to survive it.

Rey closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to plan.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just reread/finished a certain Reylo fic that has nearly the entire fandom in mourning, and now I understand why. Let's call it Murcluf. *cough* Man. Is there a trauma hotline for that fic yet? I also see why comparisons were made due to similar themes (though not THAT theme, I promise). I guess the consequence of writing in a well-established fandom is that similar themes will be and have been echoed in other fics—yet another reason why publishing this rather than just letting it live on my computer is fretful business. I won't let it keep me from telling the story I want though. 
> 
> BUT you guys are AMAZING and I am so thankful for the feedback I've received so far. Seriously, you have made my entire week. Makes the fretfulness totally worth it. :D


	3. Chapter 3

_The one-way magnetic thermoglass mirror that holds a view of the Resistance interrogation room stains everything a dull sepia. Despite that, the bright shock of red hair on the man tethered to his chair in front of them can not be subdued. His hair is darkened in places where blood has rolled from his temple into the coppery strands long before his arrival at the newest Resistance base on Dantooine. His face is a mess of bruising, superficial cuts, and sediment. Somehow though, he is still able to affect a perfect sneer, disdain radiating out from his one unswollen eye._

_General Leia Organa stands before him just slightly to the left of his chair, mindful of obstructing her audience's view._

_“Enough games, Hux. Either you have information to share, or we're done here.”_

_They've been watching this exchange from the other side of the glass for the better part of a half an hour in a small crowd of generals, lieutenants, and other important parties that for whatever reason include Poe, Finn, and Rey. In that time, Hux's face has gone from smug to angry to contemptuous, but he has been strategically vague in his divulgence of information in favor of negotiating for amnesty. Rey is learning a lot from the interaction. She has always known that Leia Organa was tough and has been witness to the General's temper as she dresses down subordinates from time to time. But she has never seen the woman's sharp intelligence tackle a mind like Armitage Hux's before._

_The man in question has already declared a long list of negotiable concessions that have been categorically denied by the General. As frustrated as he must be, his poise is still in tact._

_“You are not being reasonable, General,” his nasally voice intones quite amicably over the room's intercom speakers, despite the contradiction of his expression. “I cannot exchange information without assurances that I will be kept from further bodily harm. Tit for tat. Surely you understand how this works given your position. I wish to be of service to the Resistance, but you must be able to offer me something of value in return.”_

_Rey has always seen Hux as a viper in a snappy uniform. He had once tried to speak to her on Moraband, doing his best to gauge her weaknesses and disarm her by pretending sympathy for her plight. He had not realized that the harshness of her youth had hardened her to such deceptions. He departed with the same oily smirk that he was wearing now, but he had not been successful._

_“You want assurances?” General Organa's face gives nothing away. “How's this? I'll have the firing squad shoot you in the head instead of the stomach so you don't suffer for long.”_

_Hux appears neither offended nor surprised. “As a former member of the ruling monarchy on Alderaan, your diplomacy leaves much to be desired, General.”_

_“And your reminder of the destruction of my home planet, as well as the heinous acts you committed against the Hosnian system, aren't doing you any favors, Hux.” She paces in front of him slowly, her hands clasped behind the proud line of her back._

_“You've been acting as though you actually have leverage here. As if we would value your traitorous intel more than we would your execution. But you're wrong, Hux. We know what happened on Moraband. We know Snoke is dead. And our own intel tells us that the new Supreme Leader isn't too fond of you.” The General pauses to pierce him with a knowing look. “I know what my son does to people he doesn't like. Intimately. Your presence here is an act of desperation. You didn't come here to sell out the First Order because you wanted to. You came here because you have nowhere else to go.”_

_For the first time since the beginning of the interrogation, Hux's smug confidence falters in the face of General Organa's convictions. Ren had once let slip that Hux's mind was nearly impenetrable most days, thanks to Snoke's grueling tutelage. That took some sort of Force sensitivity, even if he was comparably a drop in the ocean to her and Ren's Force capabilities. Still, she had zeroed in on the exception subtly buried in Ren's words. Most days, he had said. She had gotten nothing from Hux when he visited her in her cell on Moraband, but maybe now, with the barest hint of panic showing in his eyes..._

_'This Resistance bitch can't know everything. She can't! Her spies wouldn't know how unhinged Ren has become, how obsessive. That's all she cares about, that her precious little monster might be brought home. I just need to work that angle and open that weepy, sniveling wound that resides in every woman...'_

_Rey gasps at the rapid fire flicker of thoughts that she reads from Hux in his lapse. He's still on the offensive, though clearly rattled. She doesn't press though; she worries that he might feel her push and tighten the reins of his control. She notices some of the others glance at her, particularly notes the sudden turn of Finn's head, but their attention quickly diverts when Hux speaks._

_“Your son has been struggling with his conscience for quite some time, General. Supr—Snoke used that to warp and mold Ren in his image, and the effects have been disastrous to the First Order. It is because of this, no doubt, that your sources were even able to gain a foothold to begin with inside our ranks. He is a cyclone of anger and emotion and from what I can tell, it all seems to center around one person—that skinny desert scavenger from Jakku who branded his face with her saber.” There is a shuffling of feet and sounds of surprise as the revelation reverberates throughout the packed room. But Hux is still speaking._

_“To someone of my military decoration and standing, the thought of the First Order resting in the hands of someone like that is appalling. There are a number of other organizations that would have paid handsomely for this intel I offer, people who would have been more...cordial in their greeting. But I knew that you, General, above all others, would appreciate holding the keys to ending this war most of all. Because it affords you the opportunity to look upon your son's face once again, to ask him, **why**? Why he turned his back on a family who loves him and the cause to which they were dedicated. Why he chose to follow in the footsteps of his fearsome grandfather rather than the hermit uncle who tutored him. Why he ended the life of your husband in such a violent display of anger. This is the opportunity I present to you.” _

_The silence, once Hux finishes, is deafening. Rey vaguely feels warm fingers wrap around her own in comfort, but she can do nothing in response besides stare at the man in front of them with his counterfeit visage of pity. His thoughts are continuing to broadcast themselves without much effort on her part._

_'She won't be able to resist the temptation. Women like her will always be mothers first, which is why this sad hodgepodge of criminals will never accomplish anything of merit. They will always fall prey to natural predators with someone like her leading.'_

_The General, who had been regarding Hux with a stony expression during his coercive monologue, does something entirely unexpected. She smiles._

_“Hux, I've seen holovids of your speeches. You've once again proven that you are a gifted orator and an inspiration to those who are too weak to lead themselves. But in your arrogance, you've made a fatal error. You've also come to think of the Resistance as weak.”_

_Hux opens his mouth to retort, but General Organa doesn't give him the chance. “Sure, we don't have the artillery, technology, or the numbers that the First Order has, or databanks bursting at the seams with detailed intelligence on planetary politics and military strengths and weaknesses. But what we do have is a unified hatred of tyranny and its impact on the galaxy. You're too young to realize that we've seen your ilk before, under a different name, and that the Resistance has endured tragedies that you've only seen referenced in the footnotes of your historical libraries._

_“We've lost husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. We've risked everything for the chance to rid the galaxy of the likes of you and your First Order. And though I would have preferred to simply have you tell us what you know, it sounds like we're going to need to do this the hard way. I'll be back, when you're more amenable to sharing.”_

_The look on Hux's face as the General calmly walks to the door of the interrogation room and gives a smart rap of her knuckles against the metal plating could only be be described as stunned._

_“General Organa, I think we have--”_

_“Good day to you, Hux,” the General cuts in over his protest. The door opens and two men step into the room, making way for the General to pass between them._

_Rey has seen one of the men on the base before. Thanks to Luke's insistence and her own internal code of ethics, she doesn't make a habit of reading others' thoughts; but she remembers the aura she picked up from this man with the square jaw and the beetle-black eyes. She had sensed overwhelming grief, anger, and hopelessness in him, not at all out place on a base filled with victims and dissenters of the First Order. But everything about him had felt...cold. Like the emptiness of space. Like the bone deep chill she felt as she braced herself against the icy winds on Hoth. There is an absence of warmth within him, and she is willing to bet it has something to do with the reason he'd stood listlessly against the stone wall on the outer perimeter of the base, gazing out into the treeline as if he didn't really see it. He is not someone she has any desire to know._

_The other man is obvious muscle, tall and grizzled with a slashing line for a mouth. The General lays a gentle hand on the cold man's shoulder as she approaches and Rey notices the sleek black case tucked beneath one of the man's arms. “Please avoid his face, if possible,” the General says quietly. “I need him to be able to speak.” With a nod from the man, she passes through the door and closes it behind her._

_The thermoglass darkens abruptly and without warning, reflecting back the faces of the small crowd of observers that range from resigned to horrified to triumphant. There is no sound coming through the speaker now. She sees Admiral Ackbar's webbed hand on the control panel beside the mirror; he is obviously the reason behind their sudden loss of view._

_The generals and lieutenants begin to speak amongst themselves in a subdued chatter, some in obvious disgust, others in quiet approval. More than a few direct glances are thrown her way but no one but Finn and Poe approach her. Rey just feels numb._

_“That was...” Poe starts, at a rare loss of words. “I didn't really think...” He shakes his head, a deep frown creasing his usually bright face. “I can't see how the General could condone this. It's not right and it's not the way we do things.”_

_“Maybe she realized the old ways weren't getting us anywhere,” Finn mutters, and both she and Poe stare at him aghast. He looks at them both in turn, clearly uncomfortable with their scrutiny, but he pushes on. “She had to change tactics. Hux is so stupidly confident of his own self-worth that he could try to string along the Resistance for days--if not weeks--before we got anything useful out of him. The General is showing him that we're not here to play games. And from what I've heard about Hux, he might have a superior military mind but the man is about as squeamish as a pampered princess when it comes to real pain. This may be the only way to get him talking.”_

_“Finn, buddy, I know you went through hell as a Stormtrooper, but we're talking about torture here, not--”_

_The door to the tiny room opens and General Organa walks in flanked by two guards. Her eyes zero in on Rey's._

_“Rey, would you step into the hallway with me for a moment? I need to speak with you.” Startled by the request, Rey hesitates, then nods._

_Since she's known Leia Organa, she's always looked to the woman as a gold standard of character, someone to whom she hoped to aspire and emulate. Now as she follows the woman out into the hallway, Rey knows she has misjudged her. The incident that occurred in the interrogation room—that is still occurring, Rey realizes in dismay—doesn't lessen her awe of the woman's accomplishments, but she hasn't realized until now that the General is willing to win this war by any means necessary._

_The General brings her a quarter of the way down the hallway before she stops and turns to face Rey. Rey knows that the right turn at the very end of the corridor leads to the interrogation room and she is grateful for the silence that permeates the space around them. She doesn't know what she would do if there were any noises filtering through the heavy metal door._

_General Organa's face is much less stony than it had been in her conversation with Hux, and it seems to soften more as the seconds tick by. “Rey., I know that wasn't easy to watch, but I needed you to see what we're dealing with here. I gave Hux the chance to deal with us fairly, and he tried his best to manipulate the odds in his favor. The Resistance was his only shot at hiding behind a military force large enough to protect him from the First Order's hired gang of bounty hunters. He's a dead man in any other scenario and he knows it.”_

_“I understand, General.” Rey is beginning to feel apprehension rising inside of her. The look in the General's eyes is calculating._

_“Rey, I need to ask something of you. Something that doesn't exactly align with the teachings of the Jedi. But let me assure you, it will be absolutely necessary in helping us win this war.”_

_Rey knows what the General wants before the woman can voice it. “You want me to read his mind.”_

_“Yes. I need to know everything, down to the passcodes for the latrines.”_

_Rey knows the General won't be deterred, but she tries anyway. “Hux has been trained to resist influence from the Force. Snoke taught him. I couldn't read him on Moraband, and I could barely read him today.”_

_“Barely?” the General presses. “So you were able to break through, at least for a little bit?”_

_“Only when you told him that you knew Snoke was dead. He was upset that you knew before he could reveal it.”_

_The General nods as if she already knows this. Of course she does, she was the Resistance's best tactician._

_“Rey, I would ask this of my brother, but I already know what his answer would be. He's still doing penitence for my son's crimes, like it was his fault that Ben refused to be saved. We've only just found him, and I think this would push him away for good. We need him with us.”_

_“I'm not a Jedi, General. But Luke wouldn't approve of me doing this either,” Rey warns._

_“I know. And I know what diving this deep for information will do to Hux. It won't be painless, nor pleasant for you.”_

_“Why then, are you torturing him in that room if you planned to have me strip his mind?” Rey knows her tone is harsh, but she also knows she deserves the General's honesty._

_A muscle in the General's jaw twitches but that's the only acknowledgment she gives to Rey's censure._

_“I suspected that Snoke may have trained his people to resist influence. And though I'm also no Jedi, I can usually read emotion pretty well. Hux was a blank canvas to me. In order to soften him up, he needs to be distracted. Pain is effective in that way.”_

_Rey feels ill at the casual way they are discussing a man's suffering, even if it's Hux. But she knows given her past discretions, she'd be failing the Resistance in a way they would not be able to overlook were she to refuse._

_“When do you need me to do it? I...I don't know that I can concentrate if I have to be present...during...”_

_“We'll wait until they finish,” the General assures her, and then one of the most awkward moments of Rey's life begins. They stand there against the wall for at least twenty standard minutes, waiting for the torture session to end. The hall remains silent as both women are lost in thought. Rey uses every bit of her Jedi meditation training to avoid fidgeting._

_Finally, Rey hears the creak of a door at the end of the hall. The General pushes off from the wall and heads towards it, and Rey has no choice but to follow._

_The cold man is wiping his hands off on a gray cloth. The fabric is splotchy with blood. Behind him, the muscled man wears an identical expression to the one he wore when he first entered the interrogation room._

_“He's lucid,” the cold man tells the General._

_“Thank you, Cohen. I'd like a debrief after we're done.”_

_“Of course, General.” He surprises Rey by saluting. Both he and his muscled companion pass by them to exit down the hall without another word. The General turns to Rey as she pulls a small device from her pocket._

_“This will record everything that goes on in this room. I'll ask the questions, and I need to you to find the answers. I'll need you to say everything aloud for the recording device. Alright?”_

_Rey nods once. She feels her insides churning with unease at what she anticipates seeing behind the closed door. She has seen terrible things as an orphan scavenger on Jakku, fatal wounds and violent skirmishes that left its participants maimed. She's seen Stormtroopers mow down civilians, and knows what a lightsaber can do to living flesh. But she thinks that whatever state Hux is in, she will be able to handle it._

_The General opens the door and Rey gasps. She had been wrong. It is so much worse than she could have imagined._

* * *

  
As she was paraded through the massive hangar, bustling with crisp, quick-darting uniforms and ranks upon ranks of marching Stormtroopers, Rey kept her eyes firmly fixed ahead of her. This wasn't the first time she'd been treated to this particular view, but she had sincerely hoped it was the last. 

Rows of stacked TIE fighter launch pads dominated one densely-packed wall; her gaze lingered on them as she waited for her escort to deploy the shuttle ramp. Stealing a ship would be suicidal if she couldn't first find a way to pass beneath the notice of the giant comm-station overlooking the hangar. She couldn't count on a diversionary tactic this time to aid her escape. Rather, it seemed as though a reprisal of the stealthy skills she put into use on Starkiller Base would be needed to make it out of the behemoth that was the _Finalizer_. But that was only if she could make it without the dreaded collar.

She did, however, pay close attention this time to the endless twists and turns down brightly lit corridors and turbolifts necessary to reach their destination. Prisoner escort apparently took precedence over everything else on the Finalizer; she saw the sour faces of annoyed First Order personnel shuffling aside as her party cut the lines to use the lifts. Her face remained a cool mask of indifference, which hid the intense concentration it took to memorize the specifics of her journey. _Three left turns, eight floors up, one really long catwalk, two floors down..._

They arrived at a solid metal door before she realized it. She'd been too preoccupied with reciting the various legs of the trip in her head to notice that her unwanted retinue had halted at their final destination. The captain in charge moved to raise a hand to the sensor panel by the door, but he needn't have bothered. The door eerily slid open before he even made contact to reveal a masked Kylo Ren, standing formally in the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. The furnishings surrounding him were in line with the sleek yet utilitarian décor of the First Order. 

Ren made a sharp gesture and Rey was manhandled into the room by the captain. Within seconds, the door hushed close behind her in the wake of her escort, whom evidently had beaten a hasty retreat the moment she was standing upright before his leader. She didn't blame him; Ren cut a menacing silhouette as usual.

For long moments, Rey and Ren regarded each other in silence. It was often the precursor to most of their interactions, always evaluating, always searching for the most expeditious path to victory. 

“Have you an answer?” Ren's modulated voice finally inquired.

“I do. “ Rey flexed her fingers to distract herself from the discomfort of the restraints. “I've decided that I won't be your whore.”

Ren's helmet gave a slight dip in apparent disappointment. “So, you've chosen to forsake your child in order to escape my company.”

“I didn't say that. You're an ass, you know that?” she blurted before she could stop herself. Ren just stared at her in that unsettling way of his. She exhaled slowly and tried again. “I said that I wouldn't be your whore. That doesn't mean we can't come to some kind of arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” he mused indulgently. “You think this is a negotiation.”

“Isn't everything? You want a companion who won't murder you in your sleep, and I want my son. Unless you're dying to see my best impression of a servo-droid, you're going to need me to cooperate.”

“Was that not the terms of your sentencing?” Ren challenged. “Compliance or incarceration.”

“Compliance can look like many things. I didn't think you wanted to spend your evenings with some vacant-eyed doll.” She watched his body language for some hint of response, but he remained motionless.

“Hmm.” His modulator rumbled with the sound after a few beats.

“Am I wrong?” she chanced boldly. She was risking everything on the hope that the lure of her willing participation might grant her a few bargaining chips.

“No,” he answered somewhat reluctantly. “Go on. What did you have in mind?”

“Half the day.”

He took his time replying. “Meaning?” 

“I want half of the day with Riku.” She squared her slim shoulders and tipped her chin upwards in false confidence. “And I want to be present for his combat training.”

“Absolutely not.” The response was immediate. “The boy needs discipline, not Mommy fussing over every bruise.”

“Did you intend on giving him many bruises then?” she asked bitterly.

“He will be trained to defend himself. A few bruises is a small cost to pay in order to protect oneself from assassination.”

“Assassination!” She was completely incredulous at the thought. He was just a boy. He chased butterflies in the field beside their cabin, for Gods sake.

“He is the son of the Supreme Leader. I've already shared that I have potential enemies. They would not hesitate to use any weakness against me, which is why I must purge the weakness from our son.” 

Rey couldn't stay calm any longer. “He's a child, you robotic monster!”

“Jedi padawans began training much earlier. By the age of six, he would've already been proficient with a lightsaber.”

“Luke Skywalker isn't training my son, and if he was he wouldn't be teaching him how to kill! He wouldn't need to.”

“I assure you that your idealized view of the Jedi is quite flawed,” Ren responded blandly. “But I suppose you have my uncle to thank for that little deception.” 

Rey didn't know what to make of that, but she refused to give up. “If not every training session, then at least some of them.”

The tilt of Ren's head implied that he was thinking over her request. 

“One session per week,” he eventually conceded. “But under no circumstances will you be allowed to interfere. Is that clear?” His threat was succinct and echoed the commanding tone he used on his subordinates.

“As a Takodana morning, _Supreme Leader._ ”

Ren turned sharply on his heel to approach the impressive viewport directly behind him. “Anything else?” he asked, after making her wait a handful of heartbeats. “You've yet to address your conditions regarding our personal arrangement.”

Rey stared at the back of his helmet in mild shock. She hadn't anticipated that he would ask her outright what she wanted. She'd been so sure that she would need to fight for each acquiescence. She wasn't ready for this.

“I...You never said,” she began nervously. “That is, you never said what it is _exactly_ that you want from me.”

Ren turned around slowly to face her. The lighting glinted off of the chrome embellishments of his mask. “I thought that was quite apparent in our earlier conversation.”

He was doing it again, pinning her with that unsettling stare of his, made worse by the coldness of the carbon-alloy shield he used to hide his face. She felt as if she were being studied. “You want...you _require_...me...” She swallowed helplessly. Kriff, he wanted her to say it aloud. Maybe this was a terrible plan. How would she ever execute it if she couldn't even say the words?

Ren saved her from the embarrassment...almost. 

“I want to touch you, Rey.” Her eyes widened and she suddenly felt flush, warmth beginning to creep up her face at his words. She watched him take a measured, predatory step in her direction and Rey immediately took an answering step backwards in alarm.

“I want you beneath me, bare and vulnerable.” Rey retreated further as Ren paused to raise his leather-sheathed hands. His helmet let out a lazy hiss as he removed it and revealed a slick of sable hair, smoothed back from his long face. He set it firmly on a side table in the rather spartan-furnished room, but barely spared it a glance as he continued to prowl forward. 

The look in his eyes was needful, _hungry_ , and the sight of it and the tightening fists at his sides sent Rey's breathing into overdrive. Why was she always struggling to breath properly around him? Maybe it was because he looked at her like _this_ sometimes. 

“I want to take my pleasure with your body and feel you writhe for me. And I want to be in your head while you do it. Is that clear enough?”

Rey knew her face was now slack with shock, that she had temporarily lost the ability to speak. The quick swipe of her tongue over dry lips wasn't helping her cause either because his eyes tracked the movement like a man dying of thirst. Where was the cool, emotionless Kylo Ren who had been negotiating with her seconds ago? How had this escalated so quickly?

Ren was still advancing. He was but a few paces away from touching her before she snapped out of her stupor and held up her bound wrists in an effort to ward him off. He continued to press forward until her hands rested uselessly against the stiff fabric of his uniform. Her head tilted back to meet his gaze and she nearly gasped at the frightening intensity she found there.

“What must I bargain for to have your complete and utter submission in this, Rey?” he appealed quietly, his dark eyes boring down into hers. “I will grant you one more concession.” He brushed a gloved knuckle softly down the curve of her cheek. “Just one.”

It took far too long for the question to register, but the gears of her mind finally stuttered into motion. The plan! This was her opportunity, her only opportunity. And Ren was asking, not dictating to her what would be. She hadn't expected that. 

“I...the collar, I want it off. During.” She realized that she was babbling, so she tried to focus her short-circuiting brain on speaking actual sentences. “I want to be free of the collar when we're together, to feel the Force again the way it's supposed to be. If only for a little while.” She was proud of herself for at least getting that much out, even though her voice trembled terribly.

His eyes narrowed at her in suspicion but they were still smoldering with lust. “And why would I allow such a privilege? Your previous visit to the _Finalizer_ resulted in millions of credits worth of damage to First Order property, not to mention the personnel that needed to be reconditioned due to your influence.” If she didn't know better, she would think he sounded vaguely proud of the damage she caused.

Rey steeled herself, which was so much harder to do when he was this close. “You remember what it was like, don't you?” she asked quietly as she studiously avoided his eyes to stare at the metal bands binding her wrists. “The Force, when we were together?”

The question made him fiercely grip her shoulders, which drew her unwilling gaze back up to meet his. “Yes,” he let out in a soft hiss.

She tried her best to continue as he watched her without blinking. “I want to feel that again. You can put it back on. The collar. Once we're...finished.”

She saw his eyes skim over her face and come to rest on her mouth; without realizing it, Rey had pulled the corner of one lip between her teeth to chew on nervously. “You ask me to risk much, Rey.”

“What risk is there, when you are now the most powerful man in the galaxy?” That statement in itself was a risk, because she worried that he would see through her inordinate ego-stroking. But he simply observed her a moment longer before he raised a thumb to press against the fullness of her bottom lip. She stopped breathing.

“You speak true. There is no one alive who can best me now.” His thumb dragged slowly down the pout of her lip. “No one.” 

Ren suddenly pulled away, leaving her bound wrists hovering in the air as she dazedly registered his stride over to the table holding his helmet. He was turned away from her as he slid it back over the dark locks of his ridiculously luxurious hair. Rey followed his movements, confusion and panic warring inside of her. Did he suspect her intentions? 

When he faced her again, all traces of the passionate man he was before disappeared behind the mask. “I accept your terms.” He raised a hand to the small device at his collar. “Captain?”

Rey frowned as confusion won the battle and she heard the whoosh of the door behind her.

“Wait,” she rushed out. “What happens now?”

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the galaxy stood before her in his customary stance, his hands clasped behind his back. “Now, duty calls. You'll be escorted to your rooms. I intend to keep my part of the bargain, assuming that you'll keep to yours?” 

“I...yes.”

Ren nodded once in acknowledgment then spun briskly away to stand again at the viewport, the spray of stars providing a dramatic backdrop for an equally dramatic man. “Excellent. Until then, Rey.” 

She felt the captain's impersonal hand take hold of her arm. There was nothing else to say, so she allowed herself to be ushered through the door and into the hallway. The entire squad was still standing at attention, blaster rifles tucked into the crook of their elbows. Rey flushed as she hoped with her entire being that the door to the room was soundproof. 

She was marched ceremoniously down the hallway and around several corners before a thought suddenly struck her, her dedication to imprinting her future escape route forgotten. Kylo Ren had made her into a liar. She'd begun the interaction by declaring that she refused to be his whore, but how could she rightfully say that now, when she had just traded favors for a chance at escape? She was now that which she'd condemned, but the real worry sending the now familiar panic through her veins was that she just might end up enjoying it.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E-rating coming soon to a theater near you! I'll let you know when. Still not sure how far I'll go down the trash compactor yet; so far, I've successfully managed to keep my dirty mind from completely corrupting this story, but it's so hard! *pun* Also, once again, thank you so much for the boatloads of support! You should really see my face as I read your comments. :3


	4. Chapter 4

_“You aren't concentrating.”_

_“I am.” Rey grits her teeth._

_“Stay calm.” Her Master is standing serenely in front of her, leaning his weight forward onto his walking staff. His aura is the polar opposite of what she is currently feeling._

_“I'm trying! You try focusing with a broken wrist.”_

_The aged Jedi slowly brings his cybernetic hand to rest atop the the knobbed end of his staff, arching one eyebrow dryly._

_“Sorry,” Rey mutters. She always seems to forget the story she heard from Poe about the circumstances behind Luke Skywalker's lost hand. The story changed a little each time she heard it. He'd been fighting his father, one of the most legendary Dark Force users to have ever lived. On the Death Star, while his father's Sith Master, Darth Sideous, watched. And he had won the day despite a grievous wound that severed his dominant saber hand. It all sounded like some fantastic fable, rather than the personal history of this stoic old man staring her down._

_Rey is humbled by her Master's small act of reproof, though she still thinks this exercise to be unnecessarily cruel. The air is thick with humidity but Rey isn't permitted to swipe at the beads of sweat rolling into her eyes, nor is she able to release the uncomfortable pose Skywalker insists she holds. One leg supports her weight while the other is bowed out like a dancer's, heel digging into the flesh of her inner thigh; she has been expected to balance this way for the last hour._

_Earlier, during saber practice, she'd taken a tumble off the crumbling edge of one cliff. While her reflexes allowed her to quickly grab a handful of the protruding roots on the cliff face, she hadn't been able to avoid the sharp rock as she'd swung bodily against the dense earth. The snap of bone and resulting pain startled her, though she hadn't panicked. She'd broken bones before on Jakku falling from greater heights, and she was confident in the knowledge that the Jedi healing techniques Skywalker had shown her would repair the damage expediently._

_Only...her Master, in his supposed infinite wisdom, had asked her to refrain from healing until the day's training was complete. He counseled that pain was a reality of combat that every Jedi must face, lest they find themselves at a disadvantage against a Dark Force user. The words sobered Rey as she remembered the steady beat of Kylo Ren's fist against his wound, dark blood staining the pristine snow as Finn faced him on Starkiller._

_“You must find peace despite the distraction,” Luke says like the mystically tranquil Jedi he is. “You cannot let the pain interfere with your connection to the Force. Focus, and push it away.”_

_Her wrist throbs with pain, radiating in time with her heartbeat. At least in combat, she would've benefited from a welcomed rush of adrenaline to distract her from the injury. She recalls her last encounter with the Commander of the Knights of Ren and his mysterious appearance on Karideph, a mercantile trade planet on the Outer Rim._

_She'd felt him before she'd seen him, realizing as she paused at a stall in the open air market to peruse the vendor's goods--clearly stolen and repackaged Stormtrooper rations--that she was being stalked by something that delighted in catching her unawares. Her lightsaber was in hand just as she heard the angry spit of another behind her, dodging to avoid it's deadly arc as it effortlessly slashed through the vendor's stall without a care for the milling throng surrounding them._

_She'd fought desperately then, impossibly it seemed, using the Force to guide her through desperate parries and slapdash evasions that kept her from harm even as the market stands around them were falling to cindering pieces. But she hadn't been good enough. Ren had cornered her and, reminiscent of their confrontation on Takodana, stolen her consciousness. He transported her to a First Order stronghold on Moraband, previously hidden from the Resistance, and threw her in a cell... setting the stage for her first truly disturbing encounter with Kylo Ren._

_The vivid recounting of the memory causes her leg to tremble dangerously. She supposes that her Master is right; if she'd really been able to find the peace of the Jedi, she would have been far too deep in a meditative trance to notice the pain...or the troubling distraction of the past. She has failed his exercise miserably._

_A large, head-sized rock suddenly hurtles towards her and Rey has just enough wits about her to send it flying in the other direction with one frantic sweep of fingers._

_“Hey!” she shouts. She stumbles as she hastily plants both feet on the ground, her muscles weak and cramping as she tries to catch herself without disturbing her injured wrist. She is unsuccessful, and fresh pain shoots up her arm._

_“So, that's it then. You've given up.” Her Master's tone screams disappointment._

_Rey glares at him as she gingerly flexes her aching wrist, suppressing a wince. “I didn't give up, I just can't concentrate.”_

_“No, you **won't** concentrate. I expected more from a survivor of the sands of Jakku.”_

_She's had enough of his condescension. “Well, so sorry to disappoint, Master Luke,” she says, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Not all of us can be Force prodigies from Day One.”_

_Her Master scoffs and eyes her with a look that echos with the weight of the entire Skywalker legacy. “You think I didn't struggle as you have? I was around your age when I first learned to wield the Force. Impatient. Arrogant. Completely unaware of my potential. And with a teacher who was far less accommodating of banal excuses.”_

_Rey feels her face heat in indignation. “Just because I'm weak with pain doesn't mean that I've given up entirely.”_

_“No, the nature of your distraction speaks of a different weakness.” Luke Skywalker's watery-blue eyes are full of judgment now and Rey feels her stomach drop as she realizes what he means._

_“What--”_

_“You let your memories torment you, Rey. Why do you think he's been able to get inside your head?”_

_She wants to immediately deny it, but the protest sticks in her throat. She's always known in the back of her mind that her Master saw more than what he voiced aloud._

_“He's stronger than I am, Master Luke. His training far exceeds mine and he made that evident when he captured me on Karideph.”_

_“Excuses,” her Master scoffs again. “You let him in. And I think you like having him there.”_

_Pain, embarrassment, and now anger blaze through her at the unmitigated gall of this man reading her thoughts. War hero or not, she will not stand here and be judged by someone who has no idea what it is to be Rey of Jakku, fighting for every scrap with the ferocity of a rathtar defending its kill._

_“I don't have to listen to this. My wrist hurts and I'm going inside.” She clutches her forearm to her chest to avoid jarring her injury and turns toward the meandering rocky path to Skywalker's dwelling._

_“Your power in the Force will never amount to anything if you continue to run from your fears, Rey.” Her back is to him and the wind on the cliff is picking up to roar in her ears, but she hears the disappointment-laden words clearly enough. “You failed today because you lacked courage. It has nothing to do with your injury.”_

_She feels the responsive anger rush up her spine, and as unwise and untempered as it is, she allows it to smolder within her. He could have just let her leave, but instead he felt the need to rub her face in her own ineptitude. She had never chosen to be a Jedi, had never wanted to be, but expectation after expectation had been heaped upon her before she even had the chance to sigh in relief at having survived the destruction of Starkiller. Her wants became a moot point the moment her Force powers became evident to the Resistance._

_So, indignity, helplessness, and aggravation at the high-handed nature of yet another Skywalker all fuel her outburst as she turns back and fiercely replies,“Yes, it's such a shame I'm not a Sith. I could have turned the pain into power and completed your stupid little exercise!“ She knows hurt is the driving force behind her harsh words, but she derives a small amount of satisfaction from being the one to hurl the quip at such a normally untouchable man._

_Her Master is not in any way amused though. In fact, he looks stunned as he creeps forward, a haunted look in his eyes. “Rey, what do you know of the Sith?”_

_She realizes that she's made an error. When Luke Skywalker grilled her about the events that preceded her harrowing rescue by the Resistance on Moraband, Rey glossed over many details. Specifically, anything relating to her close contact with Ren, unwilling on her part as it may have been. It's also unlikely that her Master knew she'd found his stash of time-worn scrolls detailing the code of the Sith and their histories. It had only been a passing curiosity before, but now she understands the damning nature of such information in light of Skywalker's suspicions. But she's still too upset by his earlier condescension to care. She wants him to share in her discomfort._

_“I know peace is a lie!” she yells over the wind. “That the Jedi pretend that ignoring emotion should be as natural as breathing. Like we aren't flesh and blood and actual people inside.”_

_“No one said it was natural, Rey, just necess--_

_“I don't care!” she cries out as she storms away from him, but not before she sees that his face is the epitome of concern. He is standing between her and the cliff side now. “Face it, Luke! I'm not fit be a Jedi.” She cradles her wrist close to her body. “I don't think I even want to be. Not if it means I won't feel anything.”_

_“Rey--” His voice is suddenly much closer than she anticipated._

_She doesn't know how it happens. Luke is a trained Jedi Master with an iron-clad command over the Force and decades of experience to boot. She has never, in all of the time she's apprenticed under him, been able to so much as startle him as he was always able to telegraph her movements and thoughts before even she knew what she would do. But somehow that doesn't matter in the split-second it takes her to act. Rey feels a hand fall on her shoulder and whirls in surprise. Her own hand extends--oddly enough the one attached to her broken wrist—and she **pushes**. _

_Luke Skywalker goes flying backward through the air with a look of utter shock on his face, his walking staff thunking heavily to the grass as it drops from his hand. She watches as he lands hard on his back, skidding to a halt mere inches from the cliff's edge._

_Rey stares uncomprehendingly at the bewildered old man on the ground, gazing up at her like he's just seeing her for the first time. Like the expression he wore when she first met him._

_Surely, **surely** , she hadn't almost Force-pushed Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi, a living legend from the old war and twin brother of General Organa off a cliff in anger? And certainly not after she had just recited a line from the Sith code and renounced her Jedi training...had she? _

_She feels powerless to move, terrified by her actions and horrified by her motivations. She had wanted to hurt him. She recalls it now... the fury that had eclipsed all reason, clamoring to retaliate, to teach him that she was not to be trifled with._

_The reality strikes her hard in the moment. She can't be a Jedi. She can't be this hero the Resistance thinks she is. Not with this urge to hurt, this aptitude for vengeance. If the man before her hadn't been a Jedi Master, a Skywalker, she very well might have flung him off a cliff in her rage. She's no better than..._

_Rey shakes her head, trying to clear the fog from it. She has failed. She has failed at everything, and there is nothing left for her here._

_“Rey,” Skywalker is scrambling to his feet, his hand stretched out beseechingly. “No, don't do this--”_

_But she has already decided. “I'm sorry, Master Luke. I can't be your apprentice any longer. Please, send General Organa my apologies. And tell Poe and Finn to look after themselves.”_

_“Rey, please!” She hears the words chase after her on the wind, but she's running too fast to let them burrow their way into her heart. Her legs are infused with her need to escape, her earlier fatigue from the day's exercises forgotten. Come to think of it, her wrist hasn't given her so much as a twinge since she channeled her power through it._

_She heads for the Millennium Falcon parked at the foot of the winding stone path up the cliff, her only salvation. Rey throws herself into the pilot's chair and her fingers fly over the navigation console with familiar ease. If her hands shake with more than the usual anticipation of starflight, she doesn't notice._

_She has everything warmed up properly in less than a minute and the takeoff sequence is beginning to initiate when she glances out the viewport and sees her now-former Master standing calmly in the grass. He has his walking staff in hand again and any emotion she glimpsed up on the cliff has been wiped clean. He is back to the sagacious Jedi she's known since her training began._

_'Rey,' he speaks calmly in her mind, 'you don't have to do this.'_

_'It's already done...Luke.' She is unused to saying his name without the moniker._

_'If you leave, he **will** find you. You don't have the skill to evade him. I can help you.'_

_'Thanks, but I'll take my chances.' She thinks she can see his shoulders descend with a sigh, but she can't be sure._

_'You're falling right into his hands. Can't you see this is what he wants?'_

_'I can't stay here any longer. I'm sorry, Luke,' she apologizes again and flips a few switches before grabbing hold of the navigation controls._

_For a moment, she fears he'll try to stop her. Even from this distance, she can see the indecision on his face. He must be weighing the risks: does he hazard her contempt and hold her here against her will, or does he dare hope that he'll be able to change her mind in some future encounter? He has to know that he'd never be able to train her as a Jedi under duress. She is certain he reaches the same conclusion as he reluctantly clears the path of the Falcon's flight trajectory._

_Her take off is as smooth as ever but she hardly notes the diminishing terrain. She can still feel Luke Skywalker's Force signature somewhere below, blindingly effulgent with the power of Light. Was her own Light sullied now? Had she done some irreparable damage to her soul by attacking such a powerful avatar who stood so vigilantly against the Dark?_

_Rey knows Luke's warning is not an exaggeration. Kylo Ren has been relentless. Though she's learned how to block him from her mind on most occasions, he still slips through from time to time in moments of weakness. Luke had been absolutely correct in his assessment of her vulnerability. She still doesn't know how Ren found her on Karideph, but she is unwilling to be at his mercy again if she can help it. The jail cell he put her in on Moraband had been small, dismal, and bore past reminders of previous residents' suffering etched into its metal walls. It had been meant to cow her, scare her, but nothing had terrified her more than the looming form of Kylo Ren leaning against the bars of her cell. Or his slow, lingering touch as he spoke seductively of the power in the Dark side._

_She doesn't want to think of her time there now, or the implications. Now, she simply wants to be free._  


* * *

  
As Rey stepped through the doorway of her new quarters on the _Finalizer_ , she was startled to find the rooms weren't as empty as she anticipated. The Stormtrooper captain in charge of her escort unfortunately mistook her hesitation for reluctance and gave her a rather ungentle nudge that sent her stumbling inelegantly into the space. She managed to throw a heated glare over her shoulder, but the woman standing up from the tasteful red chaise by the door drew her undivided attention. 

“That will be all, Captain.” The woman's Coruscant accent added a hint of sharpness to the command.

Rey hardly noticed the captain's exit as her eyes began cataloging the tailored gray uniform, cropped blond hair, and decidedly handsome face of the woman staring down at her with similar scrutiny. Also not to be ignored was the woman's towering height, dwarfing her own diminutive stature in comparison. Was it a requirement that all high-ranking First Order personnel be over six feet tall?

“Hello, Rey. I'm General Phasma. The Supreme Leader requested that I help settle you in properly.”

Rey's eyes widened in recognition. “Phasma? Aren't you--”

“Yes, I was a captain when the traitor, FN-2187 last saw me. I received a promotion when it became apparent that General Hux was no longer fit for duty.” Rey felt the weight of her memories threaten to steal her hard-won composure, but was distracted by the corner of General Phasma's mouth twitching in suppressed humor. “How _is_ my wayward Stormtrooper, by the way? Still afraid to shoot a blaster weapon?”

“I...I haven't seen him.” Rey suddenly felt the need to defend her closest friend. “But I'm sure he's quite happy now that he's left the likes of the First Order,” she said, chin tilted up proudly.

Phasma let a sliver of amusement show this time. “Well, that's certainly a relief. He was a rather deplorable Stormtrooper.”

Rey bristled, her hands clenching in her restraints. “I'll have you know that Finn is a trusted, _valued_ member of the--”

“I mean no disrespect,” Phasma interjected. “Stormtroopers are soldiers, and soldiers are tools. They fight, eat, and shit on command but they don't think for themselves. FN-2187 showed signs of willfulness and independence early on in his conditioning. I should have trusted my gut and removed him from the program when I had the chance. He didn't have the stomach for it.”

“Your ranks might benefit from a bit of compassion,” Rey countered with a disapproving frown. 

“Funny you should say that,” Phasma mused. “I was present for the prisoner exchange that reacquired General Hux for the First Order. His hands looked as if some Resistance member had indulged in a merry go with a hammer. There was nothing but pulp left, held together by bits of skin. I believe he was also missing several toes...” Phasma trailed off contemplatively, as if she was truly curious as to how Rey planned to explain the Resistance's treatment of Hux. 

Rey had no reply, only an answering rise in her gorge at the memory of Hux's bloodless face, crumpled with tears as she tore through his mind at General Organa's request.

“Well, enough pleasantries then,” was all General Phasma said when no answer was forthcoming. “I've come here with a gift from the Supreme Leader.” The woman picked up a flat black case from the table in front of the chaise. When she opened it, Rey frowned.

“What's that?” Rey eyed the intricate weave of the braided metal necklace nestled inside the case, tracing her gaze down its delicate spiral as it looped around a single, bright red gem. The piece of jewelry was finely wrought and resembled what she imagined some powdered, cosseted dignitary's wife might wear to a fancy ambassadorial ball.

“It's a Force-dampening collar,” General Phasma told her as she plucked the piece from the plush fabric holding it prone within the case. “I'll admit that I don't really understand the science behind it, but I'm told it's a requirement for your presence here on the _Finalizer_.”

“ _That's_ the collar?” Rey asked dubiously while she watched the woman set the case aside. It was much too ostentatious for a former scavenger of Jakku, but any admiration she held for its expert craftsmanship vanished now that she knew its purpose.

“Yes. May I?” Phasma held the open ends of the collar in Rey's direction.

“I suppose if I said no, I'd be stuck wearing these everywhere,” Rey sighed as she jerked her bound hands up helplessly.

“I don't imagine they would be a comfort to sleep in.”

Rey looked away from the beautiful piece of subjugation and turned around. “Let's get this over with then.” 

With her back to Phasma, Rey noted that she felt oddly at ease in the woman's company, despite Phasma's association with tyranny, her rank, and her status as Finn's former hard-ass captain. There was something...pacifying about Phasma. As if this was her true personality when she wasn't on the battlefield or haranguing subordinates. The woman still needed some guidance on acceptable topics for small talk, but Rey found that she, surprisingly, didn't completely loathe the woman. Yet. 

The metal was cool as it lay against the curve of her neck. It wasn't restrictive like the noose she had imagined, but the material was heavier than she expected and Rey knew without a doubt that she wouldn't easily forget its presence. 

Phasma circled back around and produced a small chrome device from a pocket on her uniform. The device fit into a tiny keyhole between the cuffs on Rey's restraints and after a series of clicks and turns, the restraints released themselves with a hiss. Rey immediately rubbed at the abused flesh of her wrists, exhaling at her first semblance of freedom in days. 

She tipped her chin down awkwardly to study what she could see of the necklace for a moment more before she huffed, “This is ridiculous. I look like a thieving Jawa wearing this fancy necklace with my everyday clothing. Kylo Ren really doesn't do anything by half, does he?”

General Phasma hummed bemusedly. “That's as fair an assessment as he is ever likely to receive. But I'm sure he meant for it to match your attire,” she said as she walked over to a black, high-gloss panel on the wall. The panel opened smoothly with a touch of Phasma's hand to the adjoining sensor. A brightly lit, modernly-appointed cavern of clothing yawned open before her, and Rey's jaw dropped open in disbelief. 

“You can't be serious,” she deadpanned as she took a few hesitant steps forward to peer inside. “That's enough clothing to outfit a family of five. A family of five with no concept of restraint.”

“Well, you _are_ the Supreme Leader's consort now,” Phasma remarked lightly. “Might as well look the part.”

“It's too much. I'm more of a clothing-that-doesn't-get-you-killed-in-a-fight kind of girl.”

Phasma just smiled enigmatically and gave the crisp front of her uniform a tug.

“Tell the _Supreme Leader_ to take it all back. I don't want it.”

Straight white teeth flashed at her as Phasma attempted to reign in her humor at the situation. “As drolly entertaining as that discussion might be, I'm afraid it isn't my place. You'll have to take it up directly with the Supreme Leader himself.”

“Fine,” Rey ceded, irritated. Ren had said 'clothing befitting your station' back on the shuttle. She just hadn't realized he meant 'ridiculously elaborate garments far above any station you ever hoped to achieve'. She could at least be grateful that it wasn't a closet full of those scanty metal harem outfits she'd heard the Hutts forced on their slave girls. She would've thrown her entire wardrobe out of an airlock if he'd made that particular error. 

“I'll be taking my leave now,” General Phasma said with a formal dip of her head. “I'm not certain how often our paths will cross, but I am glad to finally meet you. It's a relief to know that the Supreme Leader's attentions for governing his empire will remain undivided, now that you're with us.”

Rey didn't know how to respond to that, so she simply gave an uncertain nod back. But just as Phasma reached the door, she suddenly called out, “Wait, General Phasma!” The statuesque woman paused to regard her in the doorway. 

“My son...Riku. Is he alright? When will I get to see him?”

“I believe the Supreme Leader is attending to him now, but it's my understanding that he's scheduled to arrive at your quarters for a visit sometime mid-morning tomorrow.” 

That was sooner than Rey expected, and it eased a bit of the brooding anxiety she'd managed to shove into a back compartment of her mind. She didn't want to think about her son's reaction to waking up in an unknown place with only a Dark Force user for company. What could Ren possibly say to Riku to excuse the fact that he'd taken him from his mother? 

“Thank you,” Rey told Phasma gratefully.

“Of course.” The whoosh of the door shutting behind General Phasma gave way to a lulling silence and Rey sighed as she fell back on the plush chaise that was far comfier than any piece of furniture had rights to be. She could very well curl up and sleep on it without exploring the rest of her quarters. In fact, that was exactly what she was going to do. No need to trigger another infinite eye roll at the obscenely lavish accommodations Ren seemed eager to foist on her. 

Her hand reached up to close around the braided metal of the collar fitted around her neck. Not as bad as she envisioned but still a very clear statement of Ren's power over her. Rey hoped to eventually tip the scales in her favor, though the only way to successfully accomplish that would be to lure him in with her very real vulnerability, and that thought terrified her. She suspected that their “agreement” would begin sometime tomorrow, and thus the outset of her plans to escape with Riku in tow. She needed a good night's rest to clear her head, and now that she had those horribly uncomfortable restraints removed, she looked forward to sleeping off the weariness that was just now beginning to press on her eyelids. Then, tomorrow, she would wake up recharged and ready to face the Supreme Leader and his unsettling desires. Her last thoughts drifted to her son and how he used to burrow beneath the covers on cold nights, tucking his dark head beneath her chin to stay warm.

Her eyes shuttered for what felt like only minutes before she heard the door to her rooms suddenly slide open, causing her to sit bolt-upright on the chaise in alarm. Her eyes darted frantically to the intruder disturbing her tentative peace.

“Good evening, Rey,” the Supreme Leader of the galaxy said from the threshold, his voice--despite the modulator—a dark enticement that she was entirely unprepared for given her groggy state. “I've come to commence the terms of our arrangement. Tonight. Right now.”

Rey swallowed harshly in dismay.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to say this first and foremost: Thank You Thank You Thank You Thank You Thank You for all of the kind words, interest, kudos, and follows. It means so much to me to know that you guys are enjoying this and share my enthusiasm for Creeper Kylo (as he's been coined). If I could hug or high-five (for you introverts) every single one of you, I totally freakin' would. Also, hopefully you don't mind if this next update takes slightly longer than usual to post so that I can make sure it's totally up to smu—snuff. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extended delay (life held me in its mandibles and shook vigorously) but...I'd like to offer you 9,000 words of apology, lol. You may also have noticed that we're in explicit territory now. o_o Read the tags!!! And confession time: I went back and made one minor edit to a line in Chapter 1 regarding the Sith code – you may not even realize what or why, and if not...mwuahahaha!! *twirls mustache* (don't worry, I don't really have a mustache)

_Rey freezes at the pitch-black entrance of the cave tunnel, bracing against the two Stormtroopers holding tightly to her elbows. She doesn't want to step foot in that darkness. She channels a bit of Force through her feet to root them to the ground, much to the consternation of her enemy guard. The Stormtroopers are still struggling to pull her forward when a disembodied black helmet emerges from the inky dark to peer at the trio._

_The modulated voice is sharp, unforgiving. “What's the hold up?”_

_“Sir, she's...” The Stormtrooper searches fruitlessly for an explanation. “She's...somehow stuck to the ground. We can't move her.”_

_The rest of Kylo Ren's looming form slowly melts back into the daylight as he approaches them. His black clothing resembles a swath of shadows against the dark behind him. He takes a moment to stare down at his prisoner before reaching out to grab her shoulder, long gloved fingers curled and digging into muscle. Rey feels a jolt of Force surge through her as he yanks her from the spot to stagger gracelessly into him, her face brushing against the rough-woven cowl around his neck._

_“Get your hands off me!” she protests. She knows he has no intention of letting her go, but she loathes the helpless feeling that's been all but smothering her since her ignoble capture on Karideph. She won't simply march serenely into whatever he has planned for her. Especially with the ominous aura of **wrongness** pervading every part of this place down to the casually-strewn pebble._

_Ren's hand squeezes tighter and she's jerked forward again. He presses in close, enough to cause her eyes to skitter away uncomfortably. He holds her this way for the duration of several heartbeats and she gets the distinct impression that he's scanning her features from beneath the concealment of his mask._

_“Return to your posts. I'll take the prisoner from here.” Ren doesn't so much as turn his head in the Stormtroopers' direction. The Stormtroopers respond in unison with a formal salute and leave her in the company of a man who has proven more than capable of subduing her should he feel the need. The shuffle of their standard issue boots has almost entirely faded before Ren speaks again._

_“You're right, having them here was merely a formality. I need no help controlling you.”_

_“Stop it.” She tries to take a step back, but his hold on her shoulder turns bruising._

_“Why? Your head is such an interesting place.” The mask cants thoughtfully. “You fear the Dark so much, but you fail to comprehend it. And your futile little fantasies of escape are endearing, but entirely childish.”_

_Rey feels the fuse of her anger spark, blotting out the fear. “I find it incredibly ironic that you speak of futile fantasies when you're holding me against my will, begging me to join your monstrous army of murderers.”_

_“How theatric of you. But I don't think you understand what you're denying.”_

_“Luke Skywalker gave me a pretty clear picture and I want no part of it.”_

_“Luke Skywalker is an old fool,” he responds in clipped tones. “But worry not, I plan to educate you myself.” He punctuates the statement with a sharp pull as he catches her by the arm and drags her into the tunnel entrance._

_“No!” she shouts, but her only answers are echos rebounding in the darkness. She can't see a thing. Ren's mask must have some sort of night vision because he doesn't slow, not even when she tries to dig in her heels. The cave corridor is lengthy and their feet crunch on the rocky ground as she's forced to stumble behind him for long, agonizing minutes. The dark feels like a creeping thing around her, as if the very walls of the cave might clutch at her if she strays too close._

_She wonders how much further this can go on before her eyes detect a gradual lightening at the far end of the tunnel. One hundred or so steps more and she sees the outline of a metal archway jammed into the red crush of stone surrounding it. They emerge into a dauntingly huge antechamber that gleams with the sleekness of First Order engineering._

_“Welcome to Moraband,” Kylo Ren's modulated voice remarks blandly, but Rey is too busy taking in the high, skyscraper-worthy arches stretching over them like a massive rib cage. She knew the tunnel led into the side of a mountain, but she hadn't quite anticipated such a thorough excavation of the rocky terrain, neither by the remnants of civilizations past nor the advancement of modern-day tech layered brashly over it._

_The frosted duraglass skylight that takes up most of the main atrium's ceiling melds seamlessly with the natural rock. Muted light filters down to cast the chiseled stone panels forming the walls in high relief. The vast panels feature archaic depictions of dour-faced figures, all clearly conquering lesser beings with raised weapons poised to deliver a killing blow. A shudder runs through Rey as she notices upon closer inspection that the weapons resemble lightsabers, the crude lines etched around the blade meant to represent glowing power. The hush of the room and its stone sentinels makes the shuffle of their footsteps—Rey's dragging against the floor as Ren still refuses to slow—reverberate loudly in their wake. The haunting foreboding she felt the moment she set foot on this mountain still clings to her like viscid oil. Something terrible happened here._

_They pass without pause through the hall, many smaller archways, and a few doors that fly open at the raise of Ren's hand. Finally they halt in a narrow, poorly-lit stone corridor with a very high, unmarked ceiling. Looking up, Rey sees carved stone walkways protruding from the walls at regularly spaced intervals. Lighting fixtures are few and far between, casting illumination so weak that most of the ground remains in shadow._

_Recognizing the purpose behind this corridor immediately, Rey begins her struggle anew. Cells, rows upon rows of jail cells with a crisscross of thick metal bars hemming in the small spaces. The cells are unoccupied as far as she can tell, but she knows that Ren doesn't intend for them to stay that way for long._

_He's silent as he quickly punches in a series of buttons that Rey has no hope of memorizing. The tech is incredibly outdated and Rey's not sure she's even seen its like before. But what chance would she have to hot-wire the panel controls anyway, from **inside** the cell? The bars slide against each other with a harsh scrape of metal and temporarily retract into the doorframe, awaiting its sole occupant. Ren doesn't hesitate to shove her in and she barely has time to turn around before the bars are recrossing in front of her. She's trapped. _

_The walls of the cell are a dingy gray, made from a substance much less resilient than durasteel as evidenced by the collection of scrapes, dents, and dings impairing the surfaces. A metal shelf is all that serves for a bed, though she notes an abysmal, rust-coated commode crammed in the corner._

_“How do you like it?” Ren asks as he sidles closer to the bars, hands clasped behind his back. His masked head angles to survey the cramped perimeter. “A little antiquated, but a far sight better than a gutted AT-AT in the desert, is it not?”_

_Rey feels her hackles rise in response. “At least I had better company on Jakku,” she seethes at him. “You're wasting your time here.”_

_“We'll see.”_

_The smug words remind her of another time she'd been at the Dark Force user's mercy. She storms up to the bars, fists clenched and at the end of her patience. “Don't you have better things to do than lurk in the shadows and watch me? I sure do.”_

_Ren steps so close that his mask is almost touching the crisscrossing metal. “Your time belongs to me now.”_

_Rey registers a whisper of the Force snake over her skin before she abruptly realizes that her limbs are frozen in place. Even her jaw, clenched in annoyance, is unable to release its tension but her eyes are free to dart up in fear._

_She watches as Ren reaches through the bars and slowly trails the back of a gloved knuckle along her jaw. “You'll do as I say.” His voice is made more sinister by the voice modulator and air gusts out between her teeth in alarm. “Enjoy the accommodations, Rey.”_

_He turns on his heel to leave and it takes nearly half a minute following his departure before she feels her limbs unfreeze. She leans forward to clutch at the bars in relief, her chest a rapid rise and fall of unsettling emotion. Her jaw is still tingling from the brief rasp of leather. Why had he touched her like that?_

_Rey backs up and sits down on the cold metal bench, determined to find calm through meditation. It's what her Jedi Master would have counseled. She wishes now that she'd pushed the issue with Luke when he declined to teach her how to communicate through the Force. Her Master had been worried that opening herself up in that way, even in practice, would invite Kylo Ren to infiltrate. Little did he know that Ren was able to do that anyway when her guard was down._

_At first, it was just snippets of emotion and sensation, mainly rage and sometimes the sharp bite of pain. She'd been able to ignore it during meditation with Luke, though it sometimes distracted her when she was in the middle of a shuttle run for the Resistance; spacecraft within the Resistance were just as scarce as competent pilots, so she'd been volunteered to serve as an errand runner on occasion. She'd been on such a mission when Ren found her on Karideph._

_But then the probing began, a delicate fingering at the threads of her mind that became as firm as a pinch in some instances. Eventually his voice whispered to her: amusement at her lack of patience during an exercise, or derision at the playful way Finn hoisted her on his back to run through the halls of the base. Ren was like a twisted conscience that grew increasingly more bold despite her resistance._

_The last time Rey felt him in her head, he'd told her that the lightsaber she wielded belonged to him and that she would do well to remember that he always took what he wanted. She had promptly shuttered the connection, but not before she felt the phantom trace of a finger against her collarbone. She hadn't known he was able to do that._

_She's brought back to the present when she feels her short nails digging into the flesh of her palms and realizes that her meditation isn't working the way she intended. She's more than agitated and idly wonders when Ren will return._

_Three days pass._

_She's visited by a series of Stormtroopers who deliver her meals. The food is, surprisingly, better than she received as a free person with the Resistance. She tries to enter the Stormtroopers' minds and is relatively successful but for the fact that she finds them tirelessly recalling some code of engagement by rote, line by meticulous line. They've apparently been taught to resist mind-reading by a Force-user._

_Rey attempts to get their attention by calling out, ready to impress a Force-laden suggestion to aid her escape. But their helmets must somehow be equipped with sound-dampening devices and they don't even twitch when she resorts to screaming at them. Her food tray is calmly pushed through a slat below the bars before they depart to other, unknown duties._

_The boredom weakens her in the following days, and the lure of entering Kylo Ren's mind as he sometimes does hers tempts her beyond reason. She has nothing to lose. After all, hasn't he already captured her? So, she closes her eyes and draws on the connection they share. She's never been able to do this with anyone else and she's been nearly forbidden to initiate it under Luke's tutelage, but now she reaches out to strum at the cord of their connection like an insect caught in a web._

_She only needs to wait seconds before the spider swoops down to greet her._

_'Well, this is a surprise,' Ren's true voice speaks in her head, his tone astonished._

_'You leave me for days in this hellhole and expect me to do nothing about it?'_

_'On the contrary.' He's clearly amused. 'This is the beginning of your first lesson. Utilize every advantage.'_

_Rey brushes off his attempt to tutor her. 'Spare me your lessons. Do you plan to let me rot in this cell forever?'_

_'Are you ready to listen?'_

_'I'm ready to stretch my legs. My limbs will atrophy before you ever get around to forcing your evil ways on me.'_

_Ren seems to enjoy the banter. She can feel the warmth of his regard and his wry amusement at her confrontational manner. Guilt suffuses her as she remembers that she should be fighting him tooth and nail, but she's so ready to vacate this cell. Maybe she just needs him to trust her long enough to stage an escape._

_Ren doesn't respond to her repeated attempts to engage him again, but he shows up later that evening and leans against the bars with a casual air. Almost conversationally._

_“That was the first time you've chosen to reach out to me on your own.”_

_“Desperate times,” she says with a careless toss of her shoulder._

_“You realize how rare it is, don't you? The bond between us.”_

_“Bond? This isn't a bond, it's just you refusing to stay out of my head. I finally gave you a taste of your own medicine.”_

_“Is that what you think?” he asks slowly in that artificially-rendered voice, turning to face her fully._

_“I think you'll say anything to get your way.”_

_“My way is the right way.”_

_“The Dark side is anything but the right way!” she exclaims incredulously. Her voice echos down the cell block with the strength of her outburst. Ren is quiet a moment before he leans closer to the bars._

_“Tell me,” he urges carefully, “what does Skywalker think of your passionate nature?”_

_“What?”_

_“This fire you keep hidden behind a wall of civility. When you're angry, it roars inside you like a torch doused in fuel. I can feel it in my head sometimes, and it makes me want to push you up against a wall and show you how much of a gift passion can be.”_

_Rey feels her mouth drop open and she is suddenly at a loss for words. She stares at him dumbfounded, not sure how the conversation took such a drastic turn into such dangerous territory. “What?” she says again._

_Ren's hand disappears from view for a moment, but she hears the click of the keypad beside the cell door. His hand returns to his side just as the bars slide open, and Rey isn't able to ignore the urge to pull her knees up on the metal bench in a protective measure._

_“Don't be afraid of it, Rey,” Ren says as he steps into the cell. His superior height eclipses the dim lights behind him, so close to her person that she can look at nothing else. “Peace is a lie. There is only passion. That's what we practitioners of the Dark side live for. We don't hide our very natures away. Doing so makes you less than human. Less than true to yourself.”_

_“St-stay back,” Rey warns, raising a trembling hand as a shield when he takes another step forward._

_Her hand butts up against the stiff material of his uniform and she raises fearful eyes up to his mask. The inhuman cast of metal and chrome hovering over her makes her heart race in terror just as much as his proximity. He likely wears the monstrosity for that very reason._

_She shrinks from him further when his hands raise to hook into the hydraulic catches beneath the lip of his helmet, lifting it off. She startles as he drops it with a dull clang on the bench beside her. His hair is slightly damp around his face; she has the passing wonder at his activities before he'd come to her. Her eyes widen at her first glimpse of the scar she'd given him during their duel on Starkiller Base. It's been treated by bacta and whatever else the First Order had at its disposal, and has healed well. His nontraditional good looks, so similar in design to his roguish father's yet somehow colder, are undiminished._

_Ren's gloved hand gently grasps her wavering one, still held up in feeble defense. He's unexpectedly rough as he suddenly hauls her up to fall against him, his grip becoming tight as she tries to pull away._

_“Shh, no, Rey. Stop fighting it,” he whispers against her struggles, his mouth pressed to her ear. She is bucking like an animal against him now, but his already considerable strength is enhanced by the Force and controlling her movements. She can't get away and she'll tire herself out trying before long. But she doesn't care. She knows that to allow this is betraying everything Luke Skywalker and the Resistance fight against. That they entrust her to also fight against._

_She does tire though, and a pitiful whimper escapes her as she feels his cheek sliding soothingly against her own._

_“You don't have to fear the wanting, Rey. I know you feel it. You want to unleash that anger and passion inside you. It's clamoring to be free.” He pulls back to look her in the eye, his dark intensity holding her in place as surely as the hands on her biceps. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion,” he recites ardently. “Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory...” he murmurs, “my chains are broken.”_

_His hands graze up her shoulders to settle on her face, cupping her jaw like she's some precious jewel-encrusted artifact. “I will set you free, Rey.”_

_Ren moves to close the distance between them and finally, **finally** , her brain triggers the clarion bells of alarm that remind her that she needs to fight this to her last breath. She quickly brings her hands up to press against his chest; instead of weakly pushing at him to release her, she pulls deeply from the well of Force inside her and channels it to explosively expel from the tips of her fingers. _

_Ren staggers backwards, though he doesn't fly into the opposite wall as she'd hoped. His face looks feral, so different from the quiet ardor of moments before. His gloved hand whips up and she falls back against the metal bench, once again frozen by Ren's Force abilities._

_He advances on her like a wounded animal ready to retaliate, but checks himself just before he reaches her. It takes him time to visibly calm himself with a series of steadying breaths. When his long, pale face has lost the flush of anger, he reaches out to firmly stroke the stubborn curve of her chin with his thumb. Her pulse is still careening through her veins like a pod-racer. “I see you need more time,” he says simply._

_Her exhale is limited by the constraint of the Force-hold, but she feels the tension slowly recede with it as Ren backs out of the cell. In moments, he has the cell bars reengaged and without another word, he turns to leave the cell block. Just like the previous visit, the Force-hold doesn't release for another half a minute._

_She stares at the dirty floor of the cell for hours before she finally gives in to the meager temptation of her metal bed. She lays down and tries not to think of the events of the previous hours, tries to meditate, but she can't erase the sensation of hands on her face or the warmth she felt even through the thick military uniform pressed against her. Even his scent chases away her attempts at finding peace, indescribably tantalizing and tinged with the barest hint of ozone. She is incredibly grateful when Ren doesn't make an appearance the next day nor the following days. She's sure her surprise Force-push won't work again._

_Four days pass._

_She receives a visit from General Hux, the red-faced man she's seen on First Order propaganda holovids, eyes glinting wrathful fervor into the camera. It's a shock to see such a character made flesh, but she easily trades her surprise for contempt at the condescension oozing from the man's pores._

_“So, you're the plucky desert scavenger Ren can't seem to let go of, hmm? I'm surprised you didn't die on Starkiller.” It's said with a palpable sneer, and she remembers that Starkiller Base was supposed to have been this man's opus._

_She takes in the starched black uniform tailored to perfection around his slight physique, and the laser-perfect part of his styled red hair that she can spy even from between the cell bars._

_“It must be difficult for a junk rat to survive in the middle of this war. You chose the wrong side, girl.”_

_Rey pulls herself up a little straighter under his haughty scrutiny. “Is there a place in the First Order for junk rats like me, General Hux?” she asks with false sweetness._

_The smile General Hux levels at her is sly. “Well, apparently, there is more to you than meets the eye, junk rat. Ren seems to think so, and so does our Supreme Leader. Though I'm sure the Supreme Leader is beginning to suspect that you're more trouble than you're worth.” The man tugs idly at the cuffs of his well-made jacket, a slight undercurrent of annoyance passing over his face. “Ren leveled an entire trade district yesterday after some perceived slight from an ambassador's envoy. I'm told he set back years of political negotiations. Though his logs show that he was on his way back from here...” Hux glances over her, as if trying to determine what specific part of her held any significant worth._

_She remains silent and sets her jaw proudly. It masks her horror at the casual way he just referenced the murder of what had to be hundreds, if not thousands. Because of her? Had Ren done such an unspeakable thing because she denied him? There has to be more to it, but she also knows that Ren had been party to the obliteration of the Hosnian system. His rage is legendary, and his hesitation to murder innocents nonexistent. In her dreams, she still sees the murderous glow of Ren's lightsaber reflecting off of Han Solo's stricken face._

_Hux seems to realize that he won't get any further information out of Rey so, ever the general, he changes tactics._

_“You know, there are better containment facilities than this one. I'm not sure why Ren has you put away in these ruins. They've been outfitted with some modern conveniences, but the cells here are deplorable.” His eyes stray to the commode in the corner with distaste. “I could be persuaded to have you moved, that is, if you are willing to cooperate.”_

_Rey's eyes narrow, unsure of General Hux's motives. Inspiration suddenly strikes her as she realizes that she hasn't attempted to read his mind this entire time nor flex her Force powers. It's still not something that comes naturally to her, too many years of surviving on her wits alone to always remember that she has a different sort of arsenal now. She stands immediately and approaches the bars, drawing Hux's attention acutely. “Release me, General,” she says, laying suggestion heavily on the words._

_General Hux looks taken aback, and then the expression melts off his face. She watches him eagerly, waiting for him to move to the panel to free her, but it finally registers that he hasn't budged from the spot to follow her command. She frowns at him, ready to try again, but then his coldly handsome face lights up with jeering amusement._

_'I've been waiting for you to try that. Really, that old hermit has failed you if it took you that long. One of the first things the Supreme Leader taught me when I rose to power was how to resist the influence of people like Ren. People like you.”_

_Despite Hux's disheartening revelation, Rey still tries to penetrate his mind. She's met with almost an absence of consciousness, a blank spot where the barrage of thoughts and feelings should be. He's well-guarded._

_“If you're quite finished poking around up there, I'd like to pose my offer again...Rey, is it?” She doesn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment, and slowly sinks back down on the metal bench. “If you're willing to cooperate with the First Order and tell me all you know of the Resistance's operations and the exiled subversive, Luke Skywalker, I can provide you with an improvement in facilities, a better menu than the sludge they are likely serving you here, and regular exercise. The guards tell me you haven't been let out of this cell for an entire week.”_

_No doubt General Hux thinks his offer irresistible, but she just looks at him. She's lived in the burning sands of Jakku with nothing more to her name than a few scraps of clothing and a speeder spliced together with bits of salvage. He cannot tempt her by offering to trade one prison for another._

_Eventually, Hux clicks his tongue in disapproval and sighs. “Your stubbornness is about as effective as your Resistance's ideas of independence. But I'll leave you to it, nonetheless. Ren will have his hands full, no doubt.” He leaves, the mocking smile curling his lip the last thing she sees of him. She sits back against the wall and thinks of the way the wind whipped around her goggles as she skimmed up the peaks of the tallest sand dunes in Jakku, whooping with rare joy as she pumped the accelerator on her descent. She always loved that speeder._

_Two days pass._

_Her back is turned away from the bars as she lays listlessly on the cool metal slab. The malignant ambiance of this place has been sapping her essence of emotions. It's been an effort to remind herself that she isn't that sad, desperate, little scavenger anymore feigning fearlessness among the riffraff of a forgotten desert planet._

_She hears the heavy gait of a Stormtrooper arriving with her afternoon meal but neglects to react. It's becoming a requisite component of her new life and she closes her eyes to dismiss it, hoping to indulge again in the memory of her first flight alone in the Millennium Falcon. She had been vibrating with elation._

_The voice behind her is filtered through the buzzing speaker of the Stormtrooper helmet. “I always hated this protein mash. Is it meat, or is it vegetable? It tastes like it was scraped from the bottom of a bantha trough.”_

_Rey's eyes snap open, and she turns over to appraise the commentator of such a ridiculous statement. He looks like every other Stormtrooper that has ever stopped by her cell. The guard lifts his hands to pull off his helmet, and Rey's eyes widen dramatically._

_Dusky skin, close-cropped hair, and a warm smile greet her. “Finn!” she exclaims so loudly it echoes._

_“Shh,” Finn warns as he glances down the corridor warily. “We gotta hurry, Rey.” He's punching in buttons on the panel outside her cell like he's memorized them. “Poe's waiting outside in a TIE Fighter. That man is such a nerd for spacecraft, he wouldn't shut up about it the whole way here. Guess he could enjoy it this time since we weren't running for our lives.” The bars slide open, and Finn stretches an assisting hand out to Rey._

_Rey leaps forward and pulls her best friend into a tight embrace. “How did you manage to find me?”_

_Finn beams proudly at her. “Your ship still has a tracker, something the General had installed to keep tabs on her late husband. We heard about the fight you had on Karideph and Poe did some crazy calculation with fuel exhaust trails and habitable planets that I still don't understand to narrow down the possibilities. After that, we hit the Resistance spy network hard and found this place in the records. I didn't think this plan would work, but the General said it's worked before and that Stormtroopers are still just as boneheaded today as they were in the days of the Empire. I don't think she **meant** to insult me but--_

_“Finn,” Rey interrupts, suppressing her laughter at her friend's usual, long-winded antics. “Don't we need to meet Poe?”_

_“Yeah, sorry. Let's go.” She follows behind him, casting one last look back at the dismal cell. She is glad to leave it, and the memories created within. She doesn't want to think of what Ren will do when he discovers her missing. The darkness of his eyes and the ghost of his touch rise unbidden in her mind. Rey suppresses her shiver and turns the corner with Finn._  


* * *

  
Kylo Ren's sudden appearance in her quarters was more than a sleep-addled Rey could comprehend. She watched, lips parted, disbelieving, as her Dark warden stalked over to a recessed shelf near the door and removed his gloves and helmet with brisk, exacting motions. By the time she'd rubbed the sleep from her eyes, he was already rounding the smooth corner of the chaise. Her belated attempts to scramble backwards out of his reach were halted by the high arm of the irregularly-shaped piece of furniture and Ren wasted no time in dropping a knee to the cushion beside her. 

A dark lock of hair fell forward into his eyes as he leaned down, gripping the back of the chaise. Maybe she was still dazed from sleep and his jarring presence, but his eyes seemed to glow like dark coals as they bore down on her, roaming over her prone form like a lingering touch. They were still that exquisite, fathomless dusk she dreamt about on occasion, the color she imagined whenever her mind unwillingly strayed to the lure of the Dark.

“You should know by now that I'm not a patient man, Rey.” His gaze made a lazy sweep down her face to rest on the token of his victory over her, his hand raising to slowly stroke the braided metal.“It suits you,” he told her as he returned his eyes to hers.

Rey felt a sliver of control return with that remark. “Subjugation suits me. What a compliment,” she rejoined, though internally she cringed at the breathy sound of her voice.

“Subjugation doesn't have to be cruel. Sometimes...” the hand traced up her neck to cup her jaw and his eyes trailed downward again to settle intently on her mouth. “It can be quite pleasurable.” 

Rey had no response—words simply would not form—so she swallowed impotently. The corner of Ren's mouth curled up briefly in what she thought was triumph, before it disappeared as if it had never been. He released her jaw with a drag of fingertips and sat back against the chaise, watching her with a predacious gleam that gave her no illusions of safety. 

“Take down your hair and come here,” his low voice said evenly. 

She swallowed again. So, he was making sure she was complicit in this arrangement. He wanted there to be no doubt that she would be a willing participant. Rey couldn't deny that his words and proximity did something to her, couldn't pretend that her simple tunic and leggings weren't suddenly constricting around too-hot skin. Ren knew from past experience what his touch would elicit and this time she refused to be cowed, regardless of the warm, slick feeling brewing between her thighs. 

She reached trembling fingers up to the leather cord gathered around the hair at her nape while Ren tracked her movements with an arm stretched indolently along the back of the chaise. She'd allowed her hair to grow since her days in the Resistance, no longer a danger when she wasn't squeezing through tight crawl spaces inside the skeletons of Star Destroyers. She took her time unwinding the cord, grateful for this small reprieve from his rapt attentions. Let the Supreme Leader wait if he was so eager to unnerve her.

When the waves of her hair finally tumbled down past her slim shoulders, Rey drew in a shaky breath and pushed herself to her knees to face him. She hesitated, not quite sure how he wanted her positioned, but then Ren curved a hand around her hip and smoothly pulled her over to straddle his thighs. She went without protest but her heart beat an uneven rhythm as she settled on his lap, chest to chest, hands automatically finding purchase on his wide shoulders. 

She felt long fingers slide into her hair, and a tremor ran up her spine when she felt them twist into the strands to tilt her head back. He was so tall that she was still forced to look up to meet his ardent gaze.

“You are mine, Rey. Say it,” he rasped darkly.

She couldn't. His eyes flashed as she remained silent, his pupils nearly indistinguishable from the dark irises surrounding them. She was focusing her entire being on continuing to breathe, but she also knew that to acknowledge his ownership aloud was to lose any scrap of power she still held. He'd stacked the odds in his favor, narrowed her choices to sexual slavery or incarceration, but she would not give him this part of her soul. 

He was close enough for her to feel his warm breath wash over her face as he spoke. “Say it, Rey.” The fingers in her hair tightened in warning. He was watching her mouth as if he could will the words to form. “Give me what I want.” 

“That wasn't part of the deal,” she breathed out. Kriff, why did her voice sound like that? It was practically a moan.

The dark slash of his brows drew downward in annoyance. No doubt he wanted to bring up her promise to comply, but just as swiftly his expression shifted to regard her shrewdly. Without his mask, she was able to almost entirely follow his train of thought by facial expression. 

“No bother,” Ren assured her quickly. “I'll get what I want in the end.” And before she had the time to interpret his meaning, she was pulled forward to receive his fierce kiss. 

There was nothing gentle about the crush of lips, tongue, and teeth claiming her mouth. The hands in her hair and pressing into the small of her back gave her no quarter for escape. She was subject to every stolen breath, every liquid slide of tongue, every rough nip to her tender bottom lip, and still he took more. Her hands pushed ineffectually at his shoulders but the resistance just made him grip her more tightly and lift his hips. Despite Rey's best attempts to keep some modicum of distance between them, she slid alarmingly closer to the firm evidence of his arousal. She squirmed, and just like that, she was seated flush against him. 

Ren's rumbling groan upon impact drew every ounce of breath from her lungs. The contact stoked the aggression in him and her scalp ached with the control he exerted to hold her in place, exactly how he desired. Rey felt helplessly swept up by his passions, drugged by his domineering kisses. Her hands clutched at Ren's shoulders without her permission and her thighs involuntarily squeezed around his hips as Ren fitted his hardness against her cloth-covered cleft and ground upwards. 

She was barely aware of her own name by the time he pulled away with a dewy cling of lips. He released the hand in her hair to join its twin on her waist and briefly laid his forehead against hers. For a moment, Rey thought he was allowing her the chance to catch her breath. She certainly needed it. But then his fingers slid just below the low band of her leggings, a warm press of skin massaging skin. He pulled back, and his nearly black gaze burned into her own as he held her down firmly against him and began a slow, sultry roll of his hips.

Sensation arced up her spine and was given voice through parted, kiss-swollen lips. She found the will to shut her eyes against that dark gaze, lower lip caught desperately between her teeth as he forced her to ride him. She tried to bite back the breathless sounds spilling from her mouth like pleas for sanity, but then Ren gave a particularly vicious thrust up that compelled her against reason to moan out, “Kylo...” 

She felt his sinister chuckle vibrate all the way down to her core and she blinked up at him languidly, too affected by his lusts to fully comprehend what he found amusing.

“There it is,” he drawled lazily. The self-satisfied smirk gave him a devil-may-care visage that sped up her pulse. ”I've waited a long time to hear my name spoken like that again.”

Though it took some time for the words to register, Rey felt shame and anger wash hotly over her at the casual arrogance of his words, and frantically she pushed at his chest to gain some distance. Ren only pulled her closer. 

“Not so fast,” he admonished with a feral grin at her struggle. “We're not done yet.” And with that, Ren stood up, Rey's legs still dangling around his hips, hands firmly clutching the cheeks of her ass as he walked them quickly to a nearby wall. Rey's fingers clawed into the material of his clothing, terrified that he would drop her though he showed no signs of strain carrying her slight weight. 

She felt her back hit the wall and cast wild eyes at Ren when he released her and stepped back. In her panic, Rey didn't immediately grasp the notion that she was being held in place against the wall by the Force. Her feet scrabbled for a foothold and her fingers scratched uselessly at the cool durasteel walls in a frenzy of hysteria. Ren regarded her bemusedly a few paces away while her mind struggled to accept that she wasn't going to crash to the ground. But once it caught up and finally deemed him the perpetrator of her distress, she gradually calmed and let her limbs fall slack. She pierced the Dark Force user with a baleful glare.

“Let me down,” she demanded imperiously.

Ren pretended to contemplate her request as his eyes scanned over her recumbent position on the wall. “No.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I've spent years imagining what I would do once I had you again.” He stepped closer, into her personal space, and pressed forward to graze the fullness of his lips up the heated column of her neck. He moved to speak lowly in her ear. “What did I tell you, Rey? I wanted you bare and vulnerable for me.” 

Hands were sliding along her collarbone and she was vaguely aware of them gripping the thin material of her tunic but the lips at her ear provided ample distraction. They mouthed at the sensitive flesh over and over, pulling delicate shudders from her body like ripened fruit from a perennial tree. The sound of threads ripping reached her ears, and still she wasn't aware of what was happening until Ren suddenly backed away and leveled his hot gaze below her neck.

Her chest heaved as she stared at him in confusion. Then Rey felt the prickle of goosebumps chase across her exposed skin in the cool, recycled air, and her mouth dropped open as it dawned on her. He had ripped her tunic, straight down the middle. It hung haphazardly off her shoulders, unable to completely slip off pinned to the wall as she was. 

Ren's eyes were caressing lasciviously over the revealed swell of flesh, tightly constrained by the wrapped fabric of her breast band. They skimmed eagerly down the taut lines of her stomach feeding into low-slung leggings that were becoming more humid by the second between her legs. Rey's breathing had picked up considerably by the time he reached her face again. Kylo Ren's presence was always an exercise in breathing under duress.

His hands worked at the fastenings of his clothing. It took mere seconds for him to shed his outer coat to reveal a black, ribbed tank molded to his broad chest like a second skin. A silver chain disappeared below the low neck, drawing her eyes down to the bulge of rippling pectorals. Ren unceremoniously dropped the coat to the ground and raked a hand through his hair, flexing the thickly-corded muscles in his arms and shoulders in a way that made Rey's mouth go dry.

He advanced on her again and slid warm hands up her bare sides, curling fingers into the edges of her breast band as he probed for the tucked end of fabric spooled snugly around her chest. “Ren..” she entreated with apprehension, but that only prompted him to tug more firmly at her bindings.

“No. That's not the name I want to hear from you.” Her lower half was lifted away from the wall, her shoulders still under the pressure of the Force-hold as Ren unwound the bindings with nimble fingers. The material fell away easily to pool at his feet. Ren kept her torso angled away from the wall, his gaze dropping down to rove hungrily over her unprotected breasts. 

She turned her face away, abashed, but then Ren moved to grasp her chin with one hand and turned her back to face him. “Don't be ashamed, Rey,” he murmured. The hand fell from her face to cup the slight pout of one pert breast, thumb raking across the tightly-furled nipple. She arched unconsciously into his hold. “I still dream about these, some nights.” 

Her eyes widened at the confession, but a gasp trembled on her lips when his finger traced down past her navel to hook into the waist of her leggings. Ren kept his eyes on hers and slowly knelt to drag the material down her hips along with the tiny, elastic shorts that served as underwear. He carefully threaded them down her legs and paused to unlace her boots with military precision before both articles of clothing and footwear were tossed aside entirely. 

From her elevated position, Rey took in the midnight gloss of Ren's hair pushed back from his darkly handsome face, and the wide shoulders that tapered into densely-muscled arms holding her prone. He was overwhelmingly breath-taking, and he seemed intent on proving it. The look he gave her was wicked as he pressed her thighs apart and directed his searing gaze to the apex between them. 

He stared at her for a long, torturous moment. Too long. She felt heat and embarrassment rise within her, unable to bear such undisguised lust focused on her most private place. Ren leaned forward and inhaled softly, a groan breaking from him as his eyes closed and he dropped his head to rest against her inner thigh. “Rey,” he said thickly. “I want to have you this way. Do you consent?” 

Through the haze of desire, the question stunned her. Given the forceful way he'd handled her thus far, Rey assumed that he would just take what he wanted. Her body seemed in full support of those wants, though her mind rebelled at her loss of self in the process. But her consent was the final component of his conquest, and, of course, he wanted her to say it aloud. 

She stared down at the man kneeling between her thighs, his full lips inches away from the fevered heat of her center. He was still the supreme authority of the First Order, an ominous specter in her deepest thoughts and estranged father of her Force-sensitive child, but somehow he was kneeling in supplication and looking at her like she was a gift to savor. 

Since his arrival to her rooms, she hadn't thought to test her limited Force capabilities—his touch had robbed her of rational thought—but now Rey prodded tentatively at the connection they shared. It flared brightly in her mind like a synapse firing between them and she drew in an uneven breath as she felt her resolve crumbling. She sighed through the connection, _'Yes...'_

Ren's hands immediately pulled at the silver chain around his neck and he rose quickly to his feet. She briefly caught sight of an elongated, metal device that resembled a primitive key before he reached around to grasp her behind the neck. She watched his face, bewildered, until she heard a tiny mechanism in the collar click open with a small hiss. He was keeping his end of the bargain and removing the Force-dampening collar, as promised. 

Ren fixed her with a meaningful look and the weight of the braided metal lifted from her collarbone.

The rush of Force power that crashed into her body was like a rolling tide. It made her eyes slip shut, so lost was she in the sensation that she could do nothing else. She barely felt her head strike the durasteel wall behind her as she allowed the feeling to wash over her and reverberate through her very bones, through every starved cell that lapped voraciously at the flood of returning Force. 

It hadn't been this way when she'd faced him in the clearing outside her cabin and she suspected the collar was somehow to blame. She'd felt bereft without the Force before, but it had always felt like a soft wind billowing through her, to be molded and shaped and fashioned to obey her will. Not this torrid caress of potent energy that bordered on sensual. The only exceptions had been that fateful day on the cliffside with Luke and her close encounters with Kylo Ren, not the least of which included the night Riku was conceived. 

She opened heavy lids to gaze at Ren, who was watching her with a reverent intensity that stole her breath as he sunk back to his knees before her. He smoothed hands over the firm flesh of her thighs before he lifted them both to rest on his thick shoulders. Ren crept closer, his blown pupils making his eyes appear black. His warm exhale curled through her just as he surged forward to press his mouth to the most heated part of her. 

Rey keened loudly at the firm brush of lips and tongue against the tight petals of her sex. He seared against her with possessive zeal, his mouth a greedy, ravenous thing that branded everything it touched. She moaned raggedly at the wet, suckling kiss he bestowed on hot flesh, holding her open to the relentless onslaught. She felt him in her head, a dark passenger to her pleasure as he incited her passions with harsh whispers of thought. _'That's right, Rey,'_ Ren growled in her mind, _'Feel it...Look at me...It's me who makes you feel this.'_

His mouth slanted over her again and again until he finally curved his hands around her hips to still her wild undulations; she had unknowingly dug her fingers into the dense locks of his hair and was using her grip to move against the fluid slide of his tongue. Hands slid beneath her ass to hoist her higher and squeezed the taut flesh. A strangled moan tore out of Rey as his soft lips sealed against her and that slick, limber muscle of his plunged deeply. He was insatiable, restraining her masterfully as she writhed against his face and emitting a bestial growl of warning when she almost jerked from his hold. 

The utterances in her head continued to match the aggression of his actions. _'Say it, Rey...You know you're mine.'_ A fresh rush of wetness flooded her at the sinfully carnal tone of his thoughts. _'Stop denying what we both know is true...You **will** give me what I want.'_

Rey twisted against him, torn between wanting to shut out his voice or drown in it. “Kylo...please...” she pleaded aloud, sensing the crescendo of feeling and Force power that threatened to eclipse her sanity. She didn't know what she was asking him for at this point. She just knew that he was driving her insane.

 _'Tell me, Rey. Tell me, and I'll give you what you need.'_

She shook her head against the dark, wanton feelings stirring turbulently inside her. She couldn't do as he asked, shouldn't, but he was eroding away her will like a storm against an unsuspecting hillside. He was making her want to give in.

When no further declarations from her were forthcoming, Rey gave a frustrated whine in the back of her throat as Ren gradually gentled his movements, teasing along the damp, sensitive lips of her quim with slow, grazing touches. She couldn't deny any longer that she wanted more, needed more. Ren's face nuzzled against her lightly, his mouth slack as his tongue dipped out for a fleeting taste. 

“Kylo...please, don't...” she beseeched again, her voice ringing with desperation in the quiet room. 

She felt him lift his face to look up at her. “You know what I want, Rey.”

Rey clenched her teeth in response as the warm, wet place he'd exploited so thoroughly pulsed in time with her racing heart. Damn it all, it had been so long since she'd been touched like this. She hadn't even known that she **wanted** to be touched like this, until him. He was a manipulative, cunning, bastard of a man, but he was in her head and knew her darkest desires. He knew how to break her. 

Rey lowered her head in defeat and closed her eyes, teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she prepared herself. She couldn't bare to speak them aloud so she whispered the damning words in his head, rankled that he'd reduced her to this. _'...I'm yours, Ren.'_

The whisper of warm air against her lower parts coaxed out a shiver as he breathed against her, “I'm not sure I heard you correctly.”

Rey groaned weakly in vexation. He was holding her pleasure hostage with such obvious relish that if she wasn't so desperate to feel it again, she might have tried kicking him square in the face, Force-hold or no. “I'm yours...Kylo,” she bit out. 

His answer was immediate and utterly savage. Ren's hands curled beneath her knees and lifted them embarrassingly wide before his mouth descended like a snarling animal to devour her. His tongue ran wetly between her satiny folds, the lewd, hungry noises making Rey's eyes roll back in her head. 

The voice in her mind was purring with satisfaction, darkly praising her capitulation and submission even as Ren's hoarse rumble reached her ears. He swiftly sucked her swollen bud between his lips and fluttered his tongue along the underside as she thrashed and cried out against her volition. He hummed, lips still pursed against her, and as the erotic vibration tremored through her, she knew she was lost.

Rey barely had time to thread her hand into his hair as an anchor before she felt the coiled Force at the back of her skull implode inward like a collapsing neutron star, siphoning power and sensation from her body to spiral dangerously in her center. It burst from her violently, hurtling through her connection with Ren's mind at combustive speeds only to fire back like lightening and reenter her own. The power looped endlessly between them, a circuit of incendiary pleasure holding them captive and Rey threw her head back in abandon as she let it rip through her. Feeling transmuted into power and power into sensation as the Force swept through them both with the fury of a hurricane. 

This was the culmination of everything she had tried to forget, the immutable Bond linking two beings in the Force through passion and whispers of eternity that rent at the very fabric of her existence to deny. She wasn't supposed to feel this way. Light wasn't supposed to fuse with Dark like this. But she knew in the deepest part of her soul that her Light longed for his Darkness to cradle it, just as his Darkness clung to her Light like a malevolent shadow. They were inexplicably drawn towards one another, two halves of the same fated whole.

Time had no meaning in the wake of such phenomenons. But after a while, a tiny pinprick of lucidity slowly buoyed her to the surface of the warm, viscous ocean of Force still ensnaring them both. She felt herself slowly sliding down the wall as Ren's focus waned; he was panting harshly against her with his eyes squeezed shut, lost in the dawning purity of her Light. His shoulders caught her weight but Ren barely seemed to notice, blind to everything else around him but the Force infusing his body with resonating power. The voice in her head was silent, his thoughts distracted.

Rey gazed drowsily down at him, her mind sluggish but gaining clarity and purpose with each shuddering breath she took. She knew this was a portentous moment, for so many reasons, but she could not waste it even if her soul ached with the truth of their connection. She could not willingly be Ren's prisoner and would not let him corrupt her son with his Darkness. She had to act, and act now.

They were still both so steeped in the Force that it was barely any effort at all to pull an errant thread from the weave of power suffusing them. She concentrated on the duality of the Force's nature, the way that it could exist within her and simultaneously span across the galaxy, ethereal filaments connecting all life, reaching across the empty gulfs between the stars. This was the way Luke Skywalker had shown her to connect with other Force-sensitive beings who didn't share her rare Bond with Kylo Ren, after he realized how much his refusal had cost her on Moraband. And this is the way she reached out to her former Master now to implore his help. 

_'Luke Skywalker, please hear me,'_ she spoke into boundless web of Force that connected them all. _'My son and I are trapped on the_ Finalizer _with Kylo Ren, and we need your help. You're our only hope.'_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such a bad person and now everyone knows it. :o
> 
> This really should have been two chapters, but I didn't want to break it up for thematic reasons. Also, guys, I just discovered TFA/Kylo fanart. I'm not sure why it took me so long, but I spiraled down that rabbit hole sooo quickly...I may have embarrassed myself. SO pretty. Thanks again, Readers, for making this endeavor totally worthwhile!


	6. Chapter 6

_“Rey, please, come in.”_

_She is met upon entry by the wizened, inscrutable faces of the Skywalker twins. They are both standing behind the round strategy table, unconsciously mimicking each other with hands clasped behind their backs. Side by side in the conference chamber, Rey is reminded of Poe's passing remark; they are fraternal twins, not identical, and though the silver of age is equally apparent in the streaks of their hair and the lines of their faces, they could not look more different from one another._

_The General's dark eyes are creased and hooded, glinting with a sharp acuity that sometimes feels invasive. Rey has seen grown, battle-hardened men squirm under her scrutiny before. The General's legendary origins are sure to hold some influence over the Resistance fighters' deferential revere, but Rey thinks it has more to do with the petite woman's ability to cut a man down with a look._

_Beside the General, Rey's former Master is less impressive at first glance. He was likely handsome in his youth, but Rey has always thought that Luke's prime advantage over the unsuspecting is his benign, unkempt appearance. Those watery blue eyes of his, set beneath hair that always seems a little windblown, do not currently portray the doddering old man persona that he usually affects on his rare visits to the Resistance base. No, now they are piercing her through with that weighty, farseeing gaze that she eventually learned to endure as his apprentice._

_Looking at them now, two lingering vestiges from the the old war, Rey thinks that maybe the Skywalker twins resemble each other much more than she initially thought._

_“I hope it's alright that I invited Luke here to join this conversation,” the General says as she gestures for Rey to take a seat beside her. “I had Chewy pick him up from Ahch-To.”_

_They sit down, the General with hands loosely folded in front of her, and Luke with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his tan robes. Rey lowers herself into a chair directly to the right of the General and settles herself, awkwardly placing her forearms on the table._

_“If I may, General Organa, what conversation is that, exactly?” Rey immediately catches herself. “I mean, of course, I'm happy to discuss anything you like--_

_“Including the identity of Riku's father?” the General interjects smoothly._

_Rey inhales sharply, wide-eyed, but doesn't answer. She glances between the Skywalker twins staring expectantly back at her._

_The General leans forward, catching Rey's eyes. “Yes, I thought that might be a controversial subject. Look, Rey...” She pauses, seeming to grasp for more delicate phrasing as she searches Rey's face. Rey's not sure what expression has won the battle for dominance over her features: fear, guilt, self-pity?_

_“We're not here to gang up on you. But there are more far-reaching consequences here than just exposing your personal choices.”_

_The General picks up a datapad from the table and holds it out in offering. “Here, take a look at this,” she says gently. Rey cautiously accepts it and peers down, scanning quickly over the contents prepared on-screen._

_“The document you see has been popping up all over the HoloNet since we heard news of Snoke. It's being broadcast specifically in the Underground networks.” Rey reads the words a second time, a third time, and finally a fourth time. Her eyes are drawn back again and again to the mention of her name ('Rey, Family Name Unknown') and the astronomical sum of credits in bold-faced type directly below it._

_She finally looks back up at the General, and she can feel the deep frown etched into her own face. “What is this?”_

_“I thought it was pretty clear. It's a bounty posting.”_

_Rey sets the datapad down with a clatter. “The reward amount is obscene.”_

_“Yes. Also, note the highlighted instructions included in the opening paragraph. I believe it reads 'Target must be apprehended alive, under pain of execution'.” The General sits back in her chair, regarding Rey with a wry twist of lips.”I don't think I've ever seen that on a bounty poster before.”_

_It takes Rey longer than she likes to compose her question and when she does, her voice cracks.“I take it all known members of the Resistance have similar increases in bounty, then?”_

_“No. Just you, Rey.”_

_Rey doesn't pick up the datapad again, but her eyes stray back over it's surface to the number bolded beneath her name. She desperately wants to get out this room. She can hear her own pulse in her ears and feel a pressure in her chest, and she's not sure if it's just emotion or if something is actually physically wrong with her._

_“Thank you...General Organa,” she swallows past the tightness in her throat, “for showing me.” She tries for nonchalance. “I guess I'll be stuck doing inventory on the base until this blows over.”_

_The General pins her with an odd look. “I would say that's very the least of your concerns here, Rey. I'm not sure if you understand the gravity of the situation, so let me share some information with you.” The Resistance's finest tactician is definitely at the helm again and Rey is once again impressed by the woman's professional gravitas even if she truly dreads the words she might say._

_“Kylo Ren has been Supreme Leader for less than five weeks, and in that time, according to our intel, he's personally murdered eight high-ranking officers within his own regime and had a handful of First Order diplomats assassinated. From what we can tell, these were all figures within the First Order's ranks that opposed his ascension, but there is also suspicion that these people were 'nonbelievers'. They thought the Force was a fabrication, even under Snoke's rule. Political climbers who simply humored what they saw as the Supreme Leader's fanatical leanings.”_

_Rey shifts in her chair, doing her best to maintain eye contact. Hearing about the people Ren has murdered makes her extraordinarily uncomfortable, especially because she fears that the General will eventually ask the question that she's asked herself ever since she escaped the_ Finalizer _: how could you let someone with that much blood on his hands touch you?_

_The General continues, oblivious to Rey's internal conflicts with the past. “There are also whispers that he's ordered all non-essential Resurgent-class Star Destroyers and TIE fighter fleets not dedicated to occupying a militaristic advantage to pull back from the Mid Rim and Core Worlds. He's regrouping them on the edges of the Outer Rim. And it's not just a few fleets, Rey. We've tracked the movements of thirteen Star Destroyers so far, all headed for a convergence point just a few hyper-jumps away from here.”_

_Rey's fear and embarrassment over the genesis of the conversation is momentarily forgotten. “You think he knows we're on Dantooine.”_

_“I think he knows we're in the Outer Rim, but I don't think that's why he's moving the fleets.”_

_“Why, then?”_

_The General stares at her for a long moment before she finally says,“You, Rey.”_

_Her mouth works to form a response, but she's not sure how to deny the General's words respectfully without giving anything away in the process; she suspects the General made such a frank statement for that very reason._

_“Rey, do you know how many bounty postings there are on the First Order's division of the HoloNet? Thousands. Until recently, Luke's posting was the highest priority with the biggest payout. I'm told it's been a bit of a joke amongst the Underground crowd. Many don't believe that Luke Skywalker actually exists. They think the First Order is chasing a phantom.” Rey risks a glance at her former Master, and is startled to find that he's been watching her closely. She quickly averts her eyes back to the General._

_“Your bounty posting was made a First Order priority once Kylo Ren came to power. It's obvious that one of my son's first objectives as Supreme Leader is to acquire you. I wouldn't be surprised if he eventually planned to turn the entire might of the Armada toward recovering you.”_

_Rey fidgets, because hearing such a thing said about herself, a nobody scavenger from Jakku, feels like a grievous error. “I don't think--”_

_“Then you don't **know** my son. Maybe you're unfamiliar with his penchant for single-minded obsession, but unfortunately, that's always been his thing. I assure you that he never does anything by half. Whatever his reasons, he wants you.”_

_Those last three words echo about her head, lodging itself in the towering wall of emotion that threatens to topple with just the right push. She's been shielding her thoughts since she stepped into the room to face the pair, but she knows they can both likely feel her distress. She has to give them some explanation though. Anything, as long as it's rooted in some version of the truth. Luke will be able to tell if her words ring completely false. “It's because I marked his face,” she says quietly. “On Starkiller. I injured his pride.”_

_“Possibly. But you also escaped capture on Starkiller and Moraband, and you're the only Force-user within his reach that could possibly be turned toward the Dark side. Luke tells me he's tried relentlessly.”_

_She won't look at Luke again. She knows what she'll see if she does. He knows of her weakness for Ren. He's always known._

_“I'm not a spy for the Dark side, General.”_

_“I didn't say you were. But you left Luke in anger, renounced your Jedi training, and somehow managed to hurt a few people on Asmeru—according to witness accounts—before you disappeared without a trace. Then you show up on some trade planet almost a year later, pregnant with a Force-sensitive child whose latent power only seems to grow with each passing day.”_

_Rey fixes her eyes on the table. “I've told you how it happened.”_

_“Yes, you did. And I haven't pressed because...well, I honestly don't think I was ready to have the conversation. Han's death was still so fresh in my mind, I couldn't...”_

_Rey looks up and sees emotion clouding the General's face. She recalls the way the General embraced her when they returned from Starkiller. There had been no words exchanged, and it was the only moment in Rey's memory where the Resistance leader resembled a normal, flesh and blood woman, wracked with grief and regret. This is the second time she's witnessed the like, but the moment passes quickly. The General's face hardens before her eyes, back to the keen-eyed tactician._

_“But it's unavoidable now. Rey, the resemblance is uncanny. I only saw a few freeze-frames of Ben from Holovids before he started wearing that ghastly mask, but I know what my boy looked like growing up.”_

_With a slow exhale, Rey prepares herself._

_“Rey, is Kylo Ren the father of your child?”_

_She still won't look at Luke. Maybe that's why she has the courage to say, “You have a Jedi sitting beside you. Why not let him answer for me?”_

_“Because you're not the enemy,” the General says with a sigh. Rey sees a flicker of regret cross her face. and she thinks that maybe the woman is thinking of General Hux._

_She's been holding this secret for so long, it feels strange to finally confess. But she can't, won't, lie again. She feels like she owes it to the General, and to some lesser degree, Luke as well._

_“Yes,” Rey says finally. “Yes, Kylo Ren is Riku's father.”_

_“Was...was it consensual, Rey?”_

_Rey realizes how hard it is for the General to ask the question, so she is quick to answer. As much as she doesn't want to put her choices under scrutiny, she feels the need to ease the General's mind as much as she can._

_“Yes. It was...confusing. But I did consent.”_

_The General nods once, likely masking her relief and possibly her gratefulness at Rey's brief gloss over pertaining to the specific details. “Alright. Does he know? About Riku?”_

_“No, I left before there were any signs of pregnancy.”_

_“Alright. Okay.” The General covers Rey's hand with her own, squeezing lightly. “Thank you, Rey, for answering my questions truthfully. I know it wasn't an easy thing to admit, and it must have been an awful burden to bear. Riku is an amazingly sweet child. I know you just wanted to protect him.”_

_Rey gently pulls her hand from beneath the General's and puts both of her hands in her lap, staring down at them in slight embarrassment. She really doesn't deserve the woman's praise or pity, but she is glad that she is at least understood. Kylo Ren, Ben as the General knows him, is the woman's son after all is said and done. Whatever guilt Rey held for sleeping with the enemy must be ten times more heartbreaking for the General. They are similar though, in that regard, and Rey unexpectedly feels closer to the woman._

_“There is, unfortunately, one more matter to discuss,” the General says, and her tone is resigned. “Luke and I have discussed this at length, and we both don't feel it's wise for you to stay here with the Resistance.”_

_Rey feels her stomach drop without warning. She'd been right, then. Her crimes were too great to allow her to continue fighting alongside the Resistance. She had failed them, turned her back on them for a time, and carried their ultimate enemy's child to term, expecting them to live under the same roof with the progeny of a man who was in part responsible for murdering billions. No matter how sweet, kind, and Light Riku was, it was simply too much to ask of them._

_“No, Rey, that's not why.” She is so shocked to hear the voice of her Former Master, that she turns to look at him, nonplussed. “I'm sorry,” he says, holding his hands up repentantly. “I shouldn't have pried. But I sensed your fear and feelings of abandonment and I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. Not again.”_

_“Then why?” she asks with an edge of challenge in her voice. They haven't ever really spoken of that day on the cliff, not beyond Luke's one admission of deep regret with how things escalated. She hasn't given him the chance to delve further, always finding some chore or task related to caring for Riku that grabbed her immediate attention. After a while, he stopped trying and Rey had considered the matter a closed issue, especially when the General had assumed she wouldn't return to Jedi training with a child to rear._

_The Jedi Master gazes back at her with eyes that seem to descry the make and measure of the universe. He is every bit the sage she has encountered in her training when he tells her, “Because Kylo Ren is tracking your Force-signature, Rey, and given enough time, he and the First Order will be on our doorsteps. We would be able to defend ourselves at first, but against the full might of the First Order's flagship fleet...” He pauses, unclasping his hands._

_The General finishes his thought for him. “It would be a massacre.”_  
  


* * *

  
Rey woke alone. 

Lying in a bed made of a cool, slick fabric that whispered against her bare skin when she moved, she stared up at the darkened ceiling. It was barely visible except for the faint warm glow of some deeply hidden light source licking around its edges; a beautifully engineered nightlight courtesy of the First Order. Rey stretched lightly in the dark, feeling the pleasant burn of tender flesh in her thighs and bottom. If she had to make a wager, she would guess that there were faint bruises impressed into the skin there, blooming remnants of the night she spent at Ren's mercy.

When Ren carried her here, minutes after she'd used his distraction to reach out to Luke Skywalker, it had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life, and she had had a few with Kylo Ren. She'd had just enough foresight to aggressively shield her thoughts when he'd fitted his large hands to her waist and maneuvered her down from his shoulders. She didn't know what to make of the indecipherable look gleaming in his dark eyes. It was just on the tip of her tongue to demand an explanation, dangerous as it was, because her nerves were on the brink of revolting against her in anxiety and his silence was only inciting them further. If he'd been aware of her call to her former Master through the Force, then she wanted to face his ire head on. 

But he never gave her the chance. With a possessive hand wrapped around her jaw, Ren had leaned down to plunder her mouth with a slow, thorough kiss. Rey had actually been somewhat glad for it, untrusting as she was of the expression painted on her own face. She didn't want her panic to be on display, and as much as she needed to know if her desperate gambit had gone undetected, she was also equally terrified of the consequences of being found out. As Ren's tongue subdued hers with lazy strokes, Rey concentrated on calming her rushing pulse and giving into the easy rhythm Ren set, her hands reaching up instinctively to skim the hard muscles of his biceps. 

Ren finally broke the kiss, and gazed down at her sleepily, seeming to enjoy the sight of her wedged between his hard body and the wall. She couldn't help but bristle a little at the physical reminder of his power over her, as if she didn't have enough reminders rebounding in her mind of the way her voice had sounded in breathy capitulation. She saw that twitch of lips she recognized as Ren suppressing humor before he lifted her into his arms and carried her to a closed door set off to the side of the sitting area. Peeking past the arm cradling her weight against his chest, she saw a bed illuminated by a streak of light from the doorway, but the rest of the room was immersed in shadows.

Rey was laid down gently between cool, silken sheets, but she was surprised to see Ren backtrack from the room as soon as she was settled. She wasn't made to wait long though; he returned to her shortly after with the dreaded collar gripped in his large hand. 

The sapping feeling of the Force being dampened by the collar was just as awful as it had been when she'd been forced to don the restraints, and she mourned the loss of the leftover surge of power still ringing through her body, echoing in her consciousness. The collar reduced that echo to a mere tremor, and though she wanted to curse Ren's name for sending her through such a gauntlet of emotions, she knew that she needed all the energy she had left to clear her mind of anything remotely treasonous. She was still having a hard time believing that her ploy had worked, though he certainly wasn't behaving like a man betrayed. Still, she couldn't take any chances. She hadn't received any response at all to her plea, but that didn't mean that her message hadn't made it across the galaxy. 

Once liberated from his boots, Ren had been quick to curl his warmth around her. The contrast of his still-clothed form against her bare skin was jarring but somehow pleasing. It was all that Rey could do to focus her thoughts and senses on that contrast and warmth. Sleep had finally come, despite the thick arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the soft breath gently teasing the hair at her crown. 

And now, Rey roused herself from bed, the morning after she had admitted aloud that she belonged to man who had chased and imprisoned her, pulling the sheet with her to wrap securely around her torso. She'd last seen her leggings laying in a rumpled heap on the floor of the main room, but she knew her frayed tunic was no longer fit for wear after Ren's passions had their way. She didn't know how much time she had, but General Phasma had said she'd be allowed to see Riku sometime mid-morning. She wanted to be dressed and refreshed before then. Riku was likely scared enough as it was; she didn't want to add to his distress by appearing as though she had been soundly beaten in a battle of wills. Regardless of the truth.

Striding out quickly into the softly-lit main room, she spied a few closed doors and panels that piqued her curiosity. She grimaced slightly as she realized she hadn't even had the time to explore her own rooms before Ren's predatory assault. She hadn't expected him to just jump right into things as he had, without time to process the decisions she'd made. 

One of the doors opened to reveal a fully outfitted 'fresher, with real running water. Rey couldn't help it, her makeshift dressing gown of bedsheets and tension was promptly abandoned on the floor as she slipped into the gleaming metal stall and fiddled with the dials to coax out a spray of warm water. She groaned loudly and closed her eyes as the water sluiced over her skin, tipping her face up into the spray. The feeling was beyond ecstasy. 

Running water for bathing was an amenity that Rey had only been allowed to indulge in on rare occasions during her travels to various planets for the Resistance. Sonic shower facilities were pretty much the standard. The majority of the worlds that she'd set foot on were lacking an abundance of clean water, and growing up on Jakku she had never known what it felt like to have enough water to submerse yourself from head to toe and luxuriate in the feeling. Bathing was a waste of vital resources on most worlds when you could just step into a sonic shower and evaporate the grime away. 

Even her journey here in the Supreme Leader's custody had been interspersed with armed escorts to a sonic 'fresher aboard the Star Destroyer. She knew from walking the abandoned halls of Imperial-class Destroyer wrecks on Jakku that sonic showers were common in officer quarters, and her last visit to the _Finalizer_ had not been commemorated by such lavish accommodations either. 

The solitary room she'd been given then was likely meant for a low-ranking officer—a bunk that slid out smoothly from the wall to replace the small table and chair that lowered into the floor with the touch of a control pad, a sonic 'fresher and commode hidden behind a wall divider with a small grooming mirror attached to the wall, and a small viewport of the stars the size of a dinner plate. This 'fresher was extravagant even by First Order standards, but as the water warmed her skin and pelted against her sore muscles, Rey couldn't find it in herself to care. 

She was reluctant to end her communion with this particular luxury, but she knew she needed to find something to wear before Riku arrived. Shutting off the water, she found dense, fluffy cloths on a shelf beside the 'fresher to dry herself with, and she used that to replace the sheet as covering as she headed toward the indecently huge wardrobe room—it felt silly to call such a thing a closet—to choose clothing for the day. 

Five minutes into shifting through garment after ridiculously ostentatious garment made her seriously consider fashioning a dress out of the bed sheet discarded in the 'fresher. She almost stomped from the oversized cavern of clothing in disgust, but a low set of drawers caught her eye just as she neared the doorway. She pulled the top drawer open, and sighed in much needed relief. Folded neatly inside were several sets of sleek, dark gray training outfits. She recognized the ankle-length leggings and tight, fitted top from her last visit to the _Finalizer_ , and she knew from experience that the stretchy, breathable fabric wicked away sweat rather efficiently. It would have been perfect for practicing saber forms had she not been relegated to being the Supreme Leader's...companion. He wasn't going to allow her to use her Force powers, so that likely meant that training would also be prohibited. 

Rey pulled on the outfit, then went to hunt for her boots in the main room. Of course, none of her original clothing—not her leggings, boots, nor the tattered remains of her tunic were anywhere to be seen. She grumbled as she reentered the wardrobe room to find suitable footwear, and was at least glad to find a pair of flat black slippers that hugged the shape of her foot so comfortably it was like they were made just for her. She froze when the reality sunk in. They likely **were** made just for her. Kylo Ren had had seven years to plan her capture. Everything about this room had probably been designed with her in mind. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered or incredibly wary of his single-mindedness.

She left her hair down since she was unsure where to find something similar to the cord she typically used to bind her hair, and she was loathe to go back into that monstrosity of a wardrobe. But only when she had worked her fingers through a few tangles and brushed the long strands back to dry loosely down her back, did she realize that she didn't know quite what to do with herself. Ren had told her that her days belonged to her, but what was there to do trapped inside a gilded cage? A lavishly outfitted cage, but a cage nonetheless. Luckily there were still a few panels in the room to explore, and though she knew this would only temporarily relieve the almost crippling boredom she was sure to experience, she busied herself with becoming familiar with the tech in her quarters. 

She found a dining nook that rotated out of the wall at one panel, replete with bowls of odd looking fruit and carafes of beverages she didn't recognize. When she touched the clear surface of one carafe, she was surprised to find it ice cold. The scavenger in her eyed the fruit with rapacity; she had quelled most of her hunger-related hoarding urges once she'd joined the Resistance, but fruit had always been such a rare treat for an underfunded military outfit forced to aggressively ration in case of attack. Before she could really question her motives, she swiped two pieces of fruit from the bowl. One she tucked away in the small pocket of her training top, uncaring of the way it bulged; the other she decided to make breakfast.

She moved on to the next panel as she took a bite, pausing abruptly at the sweet, tangy flavor of the pulpy fruit pooling on her tongue. The fruit was a blushing pink inside, and pale juice dripped from the torn flesh to run decadently down her hand. It was probably the best thing she had ever eaten, and though she didn't have much experience with fruit, she was sure this flavor would remain in her memory for years to come. 

Like the running water in the 'fresher, she couldn't find the shame to turn her nose up at this particular trapping of luxury Ren felt the need to force on her. She took another bite, sucking at the plump fruit, her exploration of the panel forgotten as she ran her tongue up the trails of sugary juice painting her skin and savored it with no mind to table manners or decorum. She had a mind to go back to the bowl and stuff as many pieces of the fruit as she could into her pockets; who knew if this was a daily occurrence or a special treat? She sank her teeth into the yielding flesh again, feeling juice running wetly down her chin. More juice ran down her arm only to be swiped up by her greedy tongue.

And this is how an unmasked Ren found her when he opened the door to her quarters: wide-eyed and in the middle of lapping her tongue up a trail of sweet juice dribbling down her forearm, chin shiny with the aftermath of her bite. The Supreme Leader of the conquered galaxy dragged his gaze over every part of her coated with clear, sticky fluid until he finally reached her eyes...and he looked ravenous.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys and Dolls, I'm absolutely floored by the support I've received thus far. I know I keep saying it, but thank you, truly, for sharing in my enthusiasm over these characters. Every comment, kudo & bookmark has given me so much motivation to write...you don't even know. XD
> 
> Also, I started a tumblr. I can't guarantee that I'll keep it regularly updated (I mean, I should be writing fic, right!) and right now it's only a pitiful 2 posts, but if I ever foresee any delays in updating or have a burning desire to unload my thoughts, I'll put it there. http://theauraki.tumblr.com/ Ciao!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day later than normal, I know. Here's a space peach as consolation. ^_^

_Rey paces the small floor of the room, deftly navigating around the menagerie of potted plants that invade the space like some ill-begotten gardener's revenge. When she'd initially chosen this inn to board for the night, she'd been drawn to the cheerful entrance way wreathed with flowering, creeping vines all around the door frame. Little did she know that she would be narrowly avoiding death by tripping once inside the boundaries of her rented room._

_Several sore toes later, and Rey had learned to dodge around the planted monstrosities littering the floor of her room at odd intervals. She pauses, irritation cresting inside of her. Really, was there a purpose behind thirty-seven individual plants crammed into a room the size of the Millennium Falcon's common area? Whomever was in charge of décor here clearly had no notion of discipline, or was overcompensating for some lack of greenery in their past. Even a desert scavenger like Rey, who had painstakingly cared for a small, sickly bud she'd found clawing its way from the sand, thought it was just too much._

_She feels her stomach rumble in unmistakable hunger and grabs a protein pack from the table, nibbling on a stiff corner as she returns to her furious pacing. She's almost worked out exactly what she will say. The explanation has to be clear, concise, and emotionless, keeping the details to a bare min--_

_A knock on the door jerks her head up and her stomach drops in anxiety, her irritation at her environment forgotten. She idly lays the protein bar between two generously blooming plants on the side table and takes a deep breath. The moment is here and she can avoid it no longer. She walks the few steps it takes to reach the door, cracking it open cautiously._

_They're dressed in simple clothing, Finn's bomber jacket—or rather, Poe's—clearly left behind in a nod to the balmy weather. But they both look almost exactly the same as the last time she saw them; the only real difference is the worry pinching their faces, so unlike the easy smiles to which she's grown familiar. Poe and Finn stare at her as if they're still disbelieving that it's really her peeking out from behind a cheap inn door with encroaching leaves partially obstructing her view._

_“Finn, Poe, I'm so happy to see you. Please, come in.” She truly means the words, but she knows her voice sounds tired and dull. She's been so worried about how this meeting will go that she's drained herself of any joy she had at seeing their faces again. She pulls the door back to let them in with a brief warning to “mind the plants” as they shuffle past her, their gazes trained on her the whole way as if she were a Force-ghost suddenly appeared before them._

_“Rey...” Finn says on an exhale when they're safely inside the room, his face stricken when he sees the state she's in. Poe's mouth is gaping open in dismay, not even attempting to hide the trajectory of his gaze. Rey rests a protective hand on the bulge of her stomach, but she knows there's nothing she can do now but address the situation._

_“I know it's a shock, but I'm perfectly fine, really.” Their expressions look doubtful, pitying, so she rushes to complete the fabricated lie. “It...happened on Asmeru. I was there getting parts for the Falcon, and I met a man. A merchant.”_

_“Asmeru?” Poe repeats slowly. “How long were you there? We heard reports of some odd activity, but by the time we got there you must have been long gone.”_

_Rey doesn't like the sound of that. If they knew she was on Asmeru, they must have heard of the injuries she inflicted on that group of hooligans. But there was no way to find out without revealing her hand, so she pushes on with her story._

_“Yes, I didn't stay long. Things were...complicated. He was nice and treated me well, but he didn't want to leave the planet and I didn't want to stay. A few months later, I realized I was with child and decided to keep it.”_

_They stare at her in silence, and it's all she can do to keep the fierce resolve on her face. They don't look convinced. In fact, Poe looks even more concerned than he had when he arrived, and Finn looks bewildered._

_Maybe she should have asked them to sit down first. This wasn't the tearful, exuberant reunion she spent months imagining. They were all standing stiffly like practical strangers near the doorway, as if she hadn't ever spiraled the Millennium Falcon alongside Poe's X-wing as they raced through the spiny crags of Takodana, or gripped Finn's bare shoulders fearfully as he carried her past the shallows of the lake for her first swimming lesson. There were countless late night conversations, comforting embraces, and memories that she cherishes more than the broken knickknacks that kept her company in her cheerless abode on Jakku, when they'd been the only things to sustain her besides her dreams._

_But she is lying to them. These two people had become her real, true friends. They accept her, care about her, flaws and all, this is how she repays them?_

_“Rey...” Finn finally says, wiping a palm tensely down his face. “I really don't know what to say here.” He glances again at her rounded belly and seems to snap out of his daze. He attempts to throw her a smile, a shadow of his usual grin. “I mean...congratulations? I guess? This is crazy.”_

_“Thank you,” she answers meekly, and without her realizing it, a tear slips down her cheek to fall on the swell of her stomach._

_Poe immediately steps forward, compassion softening the frown previously marring his handsome face. He grasps her gently by the shoulders. “Are you alright, Rey?”_

_She doesn't want to lie to them. They don't deserve it. These are the only two people in the world, besides a murderous monster, who care if she lives or dies and she is eroding their trust like they mean nothing to her._

_But she doesn't know how to tell them. She doesn't even know where to begin. “I'm sorry, it's...it's just hormones. They're terrible,” she laughs out mirthlessly, but it sounds like a sob. She's botched everything. This was supposed to be a short, perfunctory conversation, where she tells them she's pregnant and apologizes for disappearing; they were supposed to ask her a few questions, tell her how much they missed her, and share stories about what they'd done in her absence. Her stories would, of course, all be lies, but they would believe her because they were her friends. They would want to move on. But now she can't go through with it. Now, the dam has broken and the flood of silent tears running down her face feel endless. She is damaged inside, and she doesn't know how to stop it._

_Poe watches her for a long moment, still clasping her shoulders in a comforting hold. She sees pity, but it's overshadowed by something else. She's seen that look in his eye before, usually when someone tells him that a particular flight maneuver isn't possible given the risk. The gears in his head are turning with that lightning quickness that she sometimes forgets is Poe's greatest strength. He's never liked the word impossible. He weighs the odds, calculates the distance, and adjusts his trajectory for a winning solution because more often than not the alternative is death or discovery. He's the best fighter pilot in the Resistance for a reason, and an even better friend._

_“Why don't we give you a minute to compose yourself?” he says loudly. His tone is odd and a little too forced, like he's reading the script of a bad holo-drama. “We won't be far, just outside the door. Okay, Rey?” Rey nods slowly, and glances at Finn who's frowning hard at Poe like he wants to disagree._

_Poe steps back and turns for the door, taking his time approaching as he shuffles around the minefield of potted plants with noisy, exaggerated movements. Rey is baffled by his peculiar behavior, and it looks like she's not the only one; Finn looks like he's prepared to tell Poe in no uncertain terms that he's lost his mind. Poe opens the door to her room wide, and after an anticipatory pause, slams it close without passing through it._

_Rey's mouth opens to inquire just what's going on, but Poe suddenly raises a silencing finger. His hand reaches inside his collar and pulls out a tiny, metallic button, which he flips over in his hand. His thumb presses down on the convex surface, and then he sighs audibly, his shoulders lowering with the exhale._

_“Poe,” Finn starts, his expression irritated. “I don't know if you got into that awful grog from Rideck again, or if you've just gone full Wookie--”_

_“I'm not crazy,” Poe interrupts seriously. He holds up the metal button. “I was bugged.”_

_Rey gasps just as Finn bursts out, “What!”_

_“Look,” Poe says, his eyes darting between them both guiltily, “I didn't have a choice. The General was worried...she thought this might be a trap. It just seemed too weird, getting a message from you, out of the blue after almost a year. Even if we could see in the hologram that it was really you. You didn't seem upset or hurt and we though you might have been coerced into it. Or...”_

_“Or leading you into a trap myself,” Rey finishes quietly for him, wiping at her wet cheeks with her fingers._

_“That wasn't my first thought, Rey. We both know you too well to know that you'd never turn Dark like that. The General just didn't know what to think after the way you left Luke.” Poe slips the bug into a side pocket and walks over to one of the chairs next to a plant-laden table, flipping it around to straddle its back. Finn is still looking scandalized with his arms crossed testily over his chest. “I thought there could be a chance you were being held hostage by that evil bastard, Kylo Ren. But I wasn't going let that stop me from trying to help you.”_

_“What would you have done, if I had been?” Rey asks, trying to ignore the way her anxiety ramps at the mention of that name. She really didn't deserve Poe._

_“Finn and I both agreed to come, regardless of what happened. No one else volunteered.” He seems to realize how pathetic that sounds, so he tries to reassure her. “It's not that they don't care, Rey, but they don't know you like we do. They just weren't sure of your allegiances. The General gave me the bug before I left and asked me to keep it to myself. She cares though, even if she had to play it safe first.”_

_Rey nods and looks away. They were risking so much for her, even their loyalties._

_“So, you kept me in the dark on purpose, Poe? You really thought I couldn't keep a secret?” Finn finally gripes reproachfully at Poe when Rey doesn't readily speak up._

_“I couldn't tell you, Finn. You do remember that bar in Ryloth, right?” Poe asks with a dubious eyebrow raised._

_“That's so unfair!” Finn exclaims hotly in response. “You can't hold me responsible for that. The guy was **clearly** missing the bottom half of his face, and nobody had the common **decency** to tell me before I was supposed to have a nice little fireside chat with Gondro the Drool Factory--”_

_“Anyway,” Poe says loudly over Finn's sputtering. “I didn't want to deceive you. We're here to help, Rey, and it looks like you may need a shoulder to cry on. Or lean on. Whatever you need, just be straight with us. What really happened? Why'd you run?” His eyes flit down to her belly, but quickly return to her face, watching her expectantly._

_Rey can't help it. The tears start anew and now her shoulders shake with the emotion she's kept bottled up for so long. It pours out of her, but her sobs feel oddly cathartic. She hasn't cried since she left the_ Finalizer _, and somehow she's only in her friends' presences for mere minutes before she's bawling like a child. They know her and trust her, at the risk of their very lives. It's time for her to trust them, too._

_She feels a strong arm slip around her shoulders and pull her into a wide, warm chest, laying her head gently on Finn's shoulder. She continues to tremble with released emotion, hugging him back as fiercely as she can. “It's okay, Rey,” she hears Finn say into her hair. “You can cry if you want to. We're here. We'll always be here.”_

_She notices the shadows thrown across the room by the sun have migrated infinitesimally by the time her tears have ebbed to a faint trickle. She finally pulls herself from Finn's embrace with a wane smile and wipes at her eyes. They feel swollen and puffy, but she feels remarkably better. Her friends don't feel like strangers any longer. Rey moves over to the table by Poe, her lip curling upwards when he catches her hand and gives it brief squeeze. She leans up against the table as Finn takes the only other chair in the room._

_“I'm not sure where to begin,” Rey says, looking between them._

_“The beginning's a good place,” Poe replies with an encouraging nod. Finn's earnest, caring face gives her the strength she needs to open her mouth and speak the words that commence her harrowing tale._

_“Okay.” Rey draws in a steadying breath. “It all started on Starkiller...”_

_***_

_When she finishes, it's well into the night and the warm breeze blowing in from the window has turned cool. She has shed more tears in the telling of these events than she thinks she's shed in her entire life, and received more comfort and kind words from the two people in front of her than she ever thought she'd need. Finally, she falls silent. Finn and Poe have gone through their own range of emotions during her story, but their support has been unwavering._

_“Well, Rey...” Poe says with a sigh. “There's not much else to say besides your secret's safe with us. Come what may,” he says with his usual roguish grin at the implicit challenge. Rey smiles gratefully in return, but turns suddenly to Finn when he raises his hand._

_“I have a question,” Finn says in a contentious tone, and both Rey and Poe look askance at him. He's frowning._

_“Why are there so many frickin' plants in this room?”_  
  


* * *

  
Rey felt like she was destined to relive the past over and over again. Ren, stalking her beneath the sun-dappled canopy on Takodana; Ren, unmasked and illuminated in the frozen landscape as he blocked their path; Ren, closing in as he leapt over the charred remains of market stalls on Karideph; Ren, advancing on her as he entered her dim cell on Moraband; Ren's slow, predatory steps as he told her exactly what he wanted with a look of undeniable need. 

Now, Ren...prowling towards her as she's caught in a compromising position with breakfast.

No matter how many times Rey tried to flee from it, history seemed determined to repeat itself. And there was no fleeing now. He practically loomed over her as his gloved hand came up to wrap around hers and the piece of fruit clutched within. Ren was staring hard at the juice-coated mess she'd made of her chin, and his tongue flitted out against his lip, as if he could somehow taste the sweet on the air. 

“I came to tell you that the boy will be here shortly, with an escort.” He hadn't yet lifted his eyes from the lower half of her face. “He'll spend the afternoon with you, then he'll report to me for combat training.”

“Okay,” Rey responded slowly, regarding him warily. He was standing much too close and his fingers were starting to dig into the flesh of her palm. She tried to pull her hand from his, but he refused to relinquish it.

“We have fifteen minutes,” Ren said, and his voice was oddly strained.

“Fifteen minutes. Alri--” Ren surged forward to drag his tongue wetly up the underside of her chin, cleansing it of juice and pulp in one long swipe. Her tense form was pulled closer as he moved on to her lower lip, tonguing the plush indent and tasting the sweetened flesh as she held stock-still, unsure of how to even react to such an assault. Her hand nearly let the fruit drop, but Ren's fingers tightened to secure it as he subjected her to the obscene lave of his hot tongue. His free hand burrowed into the dense curtain of hair hanging down her back as he pressed against her and extracted the remainder of juice from her lips with an audible suck. 

“Wait--” she tried breathlessly as he pulled back, giving an involuntary shudder when she saw him lick the wetness from his own lips.

Ren's head shook once in censure, dark eyes burning with determination. “We don't have time to wait.” 

His grip on her hand slid to her wrist and suddenly, she was being pulled behind him and in the direction of a panel in the corner of the room. “I told you,” he said over his shoulder as he pushed a few buttons, “we only have fifteen minutes.” 

Rather than a door opening, the entire wall in front of them glided sideways to reveal an enclosed alcove, darkened ominously in comparison to the cheerful lighting of the main room. As she stepped closer to get a better look, she realized the area inside was much more spacious than she anticipated. But that wasn't the aspect that dominated her attention. 

The view...it was astonishing. Three large panes of duraglass made up the small room's aperture into the vastness of pitch-dark and twinkling stars beyond. They curved upwards to form a transparent ceiling, merging in the middle like the closed petals of a flower after dusk. If she were near enough to the center pane, Rey was sure the illusion of duraglass slanting around her would make it feel as though she were floating in space. A tiny, cushioned bench was placed directly before the view, just wide enough for two people to sit knee-to-knee. The whole awesome spectacle made the viewport in Ren's meeting room yesterday look like some cheap rendition of a panorama.

Ren pulled her over the threshold and jabbed at another button on the interior panel, sealing them inside. She was still riveted by the scene behind him, drawn as always to whatever glimpse of the infinite stars she was allowed, when she was suddenly whirled her around by the wrist and forced backward with another hand on her bicep. A soft thud confirmed that she had lost the spare fruit she'd hoarded in the sudden move.

Rey tried her best not to panic, but her heart was pounding in her chest at the wild look in Ren's eyes. He seemed barely in control of his own strength as he side-stepped them around the bench and pushed her roughly against the center pane of glass. Her hand was mercifully still clutched around the remaining piece of fruit, but the pale juices were starting to run down her arm again as he held her wrist up with gloved fingers. 

There was no time to test her theory about the illusion of the glass when her gaze was caught so entirely by the man holding her captive. He raked his gaze from her face to the tight, sleeveless training top she'd donned minutes before his arrival. Ren seemed to be contemplating something as he tilted his head to examine the way it hugged her slender frame all the way down to her equally tight leggings. She gasped suddenly in outrage. Was he...Surely he wasn't thinking of ripping it asunder like he had her tunic...was he? Rey's self-preservation finally kicked in, and she crossed her free arm over her chest to ward him off. “Ren, don't you _dare_...”

But she'd forgotten how resistance seemed to incite the passions of the new Supreme Leader of the galaxy. Ren saw it as a challenge rather than a deterrent, likely more so now that she'd given him her consent. With a dark eyebrow raised, he smirked and he released her hand, only to firmly grasp the hem of her top. 

A noise of alarm eeped out of her just as Ren viciously yanked her training top upwards and over her head, obscuring her vision as the dark fabric caught on the braided collar fastened around her neck. She twisted desperately when she realized her arms were trapped above her within the constrictive sheath. She hadn't had the patience earlier to look for a breast binding in the wardrobe room, and hadn't really needed one given the way the material compressed around her. But she was sincerely regretting that lack now, bare and vulnerable as she was in front of Ren—he had really been serious about that declaration—and without any measure of defense. 

Rey tried to pull her arms downward but she was distracted by the feeling of Ren's fingers stretching the fabric around her neck just wide enough to pass over her head. She blinked as he carefully pulled her hair from the top to fall around her, spreading it over her shoulders as if he couldn't stop himself from doing it. She met his gaze momentarily before he directed his attentions above her. Ren's hand raised to clench around the material still binding her arms and, with a quick movement, twisted, causing the fabric to pull tightly around her elbows and effectively pinning them over her head. 

Why did he always want to leave her so helpless? Rey tried to struggle again, but the high position of her arms only made her shoulders burn in discomfort. “Ren...” she said in warning, but he wasn't looking at her face any longer. His gaze was fastened on the tight, blushing peaks of her breasts, exposed and tipped upwards as if the traitorous mounds were inviting him to sample. Without her binding, her breasts were small but full, certainly a modest handful now that she wasn't suffering from borderline starvation on Jakku. Ren's eyes were ablaze with obvious lust as they skimmed over her softly rounded curves, prompting a revival of flushed embarrassment from the night before.

“They're so pretty, Rey,” she heard him murmur. “They were made to be kissed.” He met her eyes. “Made to be enjoyed.” Her blush deepened profusely, uncomfortable with such sentiments spoken aloud. Ren's face was softly lit by the starlight behind her, and she glimpsed again the reverent expression she witnessed in their last encounter. 

But then his eyes glanced upward above her head and his face transformed wickedly. She swallowed anxiously as the gloved hand not occupied with restraining her raised to his mouth. He bit down into the leather, pulling his hand free of the glove and letting it drop to the floor. He then reached up to wrap his bare fingers around her hand and carefully removed the piece of fruit within her grasp. 

Her confusion at the odd gesture was short-lived. Rey's whole body jerked in surprise when she felt the cool, juicy pulp of the fruit graze heavily over her erect nipples, first one, then the other. Ren swirled it around tortuously, watching avidly as the tender bud became drenched in sticky-sweet juice. Rey's breath was stuttering by the time he finished painting her in the fruit's liquid essence. He was admiring his work with artistic appraisal and once again, he stared just a little too long. She couldn't help the instinctual rub of her thighs, her center flooding with moisture as he gazed hungrily at the lush, nectar-slicked jut of her breasts. He stared a moment longer but her sinuous movements seemed to snap Ren out of his lustful ruminations. 

He raised the piece of fruit to her mouth and said sternly, as if he expected her to argue, “Open.” She hesitated for only a second before she parted her lips for him, and whined in protest as he firmly wedged the fruit between her teeth. The sugary flavor exploded on her tongue and she found herself habitually drawing on its sweetness to wash down her throat, despite her pique at being essentially gagged.

Ren brought his wet palm up to cup the underside of one breast, lifting and testing its slight weight before squeezing. He trapped her gaze with his as he lowered himself so that her chilled, dampened breasts were just level with his face. His tongue ran salaciously over his lips, inducing a tremor from Rey as she saw him track a bead of succulent juice pearling at the very tip of one nipple. His eyes slid shut and with a groan, he engulfed the sweetened nipple in the moist heat of his mouth. 

Rey cried out around the fruit, both at the temperature contrast and the warm, constant suction Ren applied immediately to the aching flesh between his lips. He suckled her firmly, hollowing his cheeks and tightening his hold as she writhed against the feeling. Each deep pull felt as though he was tugging on some invisible cord connected to that throbbing place between her legs, stoking her already molten center as he worked his tongue over the sensitive pucker and added a subtle impress of teeth. She clenched hotly at the smack of Ren's lips as he left one breast to switch to the other, slurping boorishly at the remaining fluids clinging to her flesh before sucking it into his mouth with the same ferocious treatment he'd given the other.

She closed her eyes against the sight and bit down more firmly on the edible gag between her lips, desperately turned on and unable to do anything about it. The flavor of the fruit in her mouth and the greedy, hungry sounds Ren made as he savored and suckled her made it difficult to do anything else but submit. 

She was under assault: the warm rasp of his tongue curling around her nipple, encouraging it to hardened further between his lips; the firm squeeze of Ren's fingers as he lifted her breast to feed into the voracious suck his mouth; the tight grip of his hand on her makeshift restraints, stretching her arms above and presenting the feast of her pouting breasts with indecent alacrity; the wordless, heated flow of lust that billowed in her mind through the Bond, subdued by the collar yet overflowing like a vessel too full. It all melded together in a haze of pleasure and longing that blurred the lines of her initial objections and made her doubt that she ever wanted this to end.

Ren was doing his best to rile her and stir her passions, despite his promises to keep his visits solely to evenings. And she...she was playing right into his hands. He was trying to confuse her again, drown her in his desires and turn her into the debauched little harlot that he craved complete and utter control over. Rey _needed_ to resist him. It was the only way to maintain her sense of self; if she allowed him to bend her to his will whenever he liked, she'd never have a moment alone. She and Riku wouldn't be able to escape if the frequency of Ren's presence couldn't be predicted. If he could show up and have her whenever he wanted.

 _Riku_. Rey squirmed against Ren's hold, making inarticulate noises of protest around the fruit. Riku would be here at any moment, and she would not allow Ren these...distractions any longer. He wanted to skew her priorities and use her attraction to him against her. She would rather cut off her saber arm than forget what was really important. And that was most assuredly her son.

Her dark warden arrogantly mistook the sounds she made behind her gag as cries of passion, unlatching from her nipple with a soft 'pop'. He quickly plucked the piece of fruit from between her teeth and eyed her possessively, right before he swooped in to steal a hard kiss and pushed himself against her before she could say otherwise. Anger bubbled up inside of Rey at his presumptuousness, even though the hot press of lips burned across her nerve endings like a lick of flame. If she didn't get his attention, and soon, she might never leave this room. She also owed Ren a reminder that she wasn't just a doll for him to do as he pleased. 

She waited patiently for him to slant his head to deepen the kiss, taking the opportunity presented to her and giving his tongue a hard, satisfying nip.

He jerked and gave a grunt of surprise, pulling sharply away and staring at her incredulously as he brought his free hand up to his mouth. He touched his fingers to his tongue briefly, but she was relatively certain that she hadn't drawn blood. “Did you just bite me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Rey snapped fiercely, her teeth still bared and panting softly. 

Ren's eyes roamed over her face, clearly confounded by the sudden turn of events but he hadn't yet loosened his hold on the material binding her arms. “May I ask why?”

“We had an arrangement, Ren. You said I would have my days to myself, and with Riku. This isn't following the rules.”

“Rules?” Ren echoed quietly with a frown. He must have still been muddled by their recent activities.

“Yes, rules. The reason I even let you touch me in the first place.” She watched as his befuddlement slowly hardened into irritation at her words. She knew the barb would have the desired effect and cool down his ardor considerably. If Ren sensed the hint of deception coloring her words, he didn't comment; it was mostly true anyway. Her mind rebelled against his touch, even if her body wanted nothing more than to let him have his way with her. 

Ren chose that moment to stretch himself to his full height, towering over her in an obvious show of superiority and strength. “Right. How careless of me,” he said dispassionately. His hand slowly released the fabric threaded around her arms and he stepped back, allowing her space to redress. His eyes, however, lingered on her bare skin until it was safely hidden beneath her top again. Rey used her forearm to wipe at the sticky traces of nectar still trailing down her chin, dismayed that it was just as coated as before. Any juice Ren had removed before was just reapplied when he had decided to gag her with the fruit and turn her into breakfast.

A chime suddenly rang out into the hushed air and Ren stared blankly at the interior panel by the door. He seemed to be waging an internal conflict within himself, but eventually, he approached the panel and pushed down a button, holding it while he spoke. “Give us a moment, Phasma,” he said aloud, and Rey understood then what the chime had meant. Riku was finally here. 

Ren pressed another button on the console, and the wall slid open, allowing the main room's lights to stream in and brighten the darkened room. Rey marched past him without waiting to be given leave, anxiety and elation at seeing her son for the first time in days swirling within her to jar her nerves tumultuously. Ren had said Riku would be arriving with an escort, and her imagination supplied unhelpful, disturbing images of her son huddling alone and afraid between cold men with blaster rifles. She needed to lay eyes on him to assure herself that he was whole and hale, regardless of Ren's insistence that he meant him no harm.

She glanced behind her, but Ren wasn't standing wait like she had anticipated. He was coming out of the 'fresher with two damp clothes, one of which he thrust into her hands brusquely. The cloth looked similar to the others folded neatly in the 'fresher, albeit smaller, and Ren was currently using his own to wipe at his face and fingers. Rey was reluctant to take anything he gave her at the moment, but she knew it would be foolish to refuse, unless she wanted to explain to Riku why she was practically smeared in fruit. 

Rey cleaned her face, arms, and hands quickly before tossing the cloth on the small table beside her. “Okay,” she said to Ren behind her. “Hurry up and open the door. I'm ready to see my son.” Her tone was curt, and when she glanced back she saw a flicker of annoyance cross Ren's face before he waved a hand with a flourish to raise the door with the Force. 

The door wooshed open to reveal her son, dressed in dark clothing and speaking animated with the tall, blond woman in profile whom she recognized to be General Phasma. His face was alight with enthusiasm and even Phasma's mouth was curled up in a slight smile as she listened patiently to whatever Riku was describing with such gusto. Behind them, a group of Stormtroopers formed a loose circle around them, but they all snapped to attention the moment they realized the door had opened. 

Riku stopped speaking abruptly, and his eyes immediately found Rey's. A hairline fracture crept up her heart when she saw the smile melt from his small, pale face. He looked suddenly terrified to enter the room, and for a moment she hoped it was because of the looming shadow behind her. But he wasn't looking at anyone else but his mother and Rey couldn't fool herself into thinking that his trepidation had to do with anyone else but herself. 

Phasma stepped up and laid a hand on Riku's shoulder, urging him forward as she leaned down to murmur a soft word of encouragement in his ear. Hesitantly, with stilted steps, Riku crossed the threshold into her quarters, gazing at her like she might turn him away at any moment. Rey felt tears threatening to betray her distress, but she swiped them away, lowering herself to a knee so she was closer to eye level with her son. “Riku,” she said, doing her best to keep back the despairing emotions. “I've missed you so much.” Her voice broke then, despite her best efforts. “So very much.” 

Rey opened her arms wide to him, staring plaintively at him, hoping against hope that her sweet child hadn't somehow been irreparably damaged by this entire, frightening ordeal. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes as well, and she was just about to rise and go to him when Riku charged forward and crashed clumsily into the circle her arms. Rey was taken aback but sighed deeply in relief as she clutched him to her hard, rubbing her chin against the soft curls at his crown. His face was buried in her shoulder, but she heard the words anyway, mumbled hoarsely as he fought his tears. “I'm so sorry, Mama. Please, _please_ don't hate me.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...totally obsessed with tumblr now. I just never knew how awesome the Reylo community is there. I'll likely be frequenting it more than I anticipated, now that I know it will feed my obsession. Join me *Darth Vader voice* on tumblr if you would like to hear some of my musings on Reylo trash, editing, and Adam Driver animated gifs. http://theauraki.tumblr.com/ :D
> 
> Also, if you haven't checked out the Reylo Sin Anthology, do so please, immediately. SO. MUCH. SMUT. I'm planning to submit my own little dark Reylo oneshot for their next publication, which has the delicious theme of dark fairytales. I've been rather, erm, restrained in this fic, if you can believe it, but I do think I'll be exposing my more risque side for that anthology. We'll see though! Thanks again, guys, for all the support...I'm still floating on cloud nine from surpassing 400 kudos. You guys rock so hard!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I had gotten this out in time for Halloween, but c'est la vive!

_Rey despises this planet, and she finds the “summer” blizzard currently clouding her vision has not done much to change her mind since her last visit. She hates it still. Before Hoth, she had never felt cold like this. She feels each gust rattle her down to the bone and blinks rapidly against the swarm of ice crystals tangling in her lashes. It is bitter, this glacial wind that gleefully seeks out the tiny gaps between flesh and clothing, challenging each step with mocking vigor as it sears cold against her mortal skin._

_Hoth, though, had not been her first encounter with snow. The forest just outside of Starkiller base had glistened with white powder that crunched beneath her boots as she ran, blanketing the rock formations and trees like sand after a windstorm. There had been no time to revel in its novelty then as they rushed to avoid the imminent destruction of the terrain around them. But where Starkiller had been oddly temperate due to the slow collapse of the planet's core, Hoth is so frigid that every exhale feels like a tragic loss of warmth._

_The stiff collar of her heavy coat is doing an adequate job of protecting her nose and chin, but the exposed skin above is so chilled that her teeth are chattering in her head. Her small shoulder bag is crowded with their sparse collection of belongings and hangs heavily on her hip. Its contents include a single-prime blaster weapon from Finn, a carved X-wing toy from Poe with sanded edges, a change of clothing for them both, and a single Jedi holocron from Luke on various saber stances. That last one had given Rey pause when her former Master pressed the offering into her palm – it felt too much like wishful thinking on Luke's part, but she had murmured a thank you before looking away uncomfortably all the same._

_The stark white surrounding them is blinding, uniform and hauntingly endless even as it stretches up rocky crags and down sweeping valleys. Its vast emptiness reminds her of the desert, and she's convinced that survival here is no less cruel, though death is surely swifter. There must have been a dozen planets in the sector that could have served as the Resistance's hidden supply base; why they had chosen to reopen a corroding landmark from the Galactic Civil War in such an uninhabitable climate was unknown to her. Maybe they thought the irony of hiding in plain sight would be enough to escape the notice of the First Order, but all Rey knows is that she can't wait to move on from this icy wasteland. She's had enough of harsh, unforgiving environments to last her a lifetime._

_Rey might not find Hoth to be very captivating, but she'd seen the way Riku's eyes lit up at the frozen landscape when they'd swept the Falcon down to a low altitude cruise. The same burgeoning awe she'd felt the first time she laid eyes on the lush forests of Takodana had been shining in his innocent dark gaze. He had never left the Resistance base in all of his five years, nor seen an expanse of unchecked wilderness as large as this before. He was used to duracrete walls and paved outdoor play areas that doubled as landing strips for X-wings and shuttles; a well-guarded compound hemmed in by a defensible outer wall that hindered any clear view of the trees beyond._

_She turns to look at her son, to make sure he's still following close behind her. Riku's pale face is barely visible between the thick fur-lined hood and the densely-woven scarf wrapped around his face. His dark eyebrows are frosted over with snow and the visible portions of his skin are wind-chapped and pink. But his eyes, squinched against the elements, are still darting around the weathered knolls of ice and ridges of snow in obvious wonder. He likely doesn't feel the bone deep chill as she does, someone who lived most of her life in the sweltering, dry heat of the desert._

_This experience is transformative for him, opening his young mind to the possibilities of new worlds and new horizons. It was more than she'd ever had as a child, though she had dreamed desperately of it. She'd known of such things through scavenged holo-books and the tales of passing off-worlders, but she'd been chained to Jakku by hunger, poverty, and the hope of reunion with a potentially nonexistent family. It had taken nineteen years and a fugitive with a purpose greater than her own to venture beyond that, but that momentary snap decision had likely saved her life. The desert had been chipping away at her soul for years until it had begun to crumble, like so much shifting sand between her fingers. Sure, she'd run headlong into danger and near fatal cannon fire with Finn, but she had faced the certain death of her humanity on Jakku. Her life hadn't truly begun until she left its treacherous dunes with a squad of First Order TIE Fighters chasing behind her._

_Rey is grateful that Riku can see this, even if Hoth wouldn't have been her first choice for a maiden voyage off-base. But he needed something to distract and rouse him from his sadness. He'd barely spoken three words to her since their cheerless send off from the base, despite her best attempts to lighten the mood. Her Force-sensitive son knew when she was trying to divert him, however noble her intentions may be. He hadn't reacted unkindly to her light jests and forced enthusiasm, just without any trace of his customary lightheartedness._

_Her son's preternatural awareness is an unusual parenting challenge that she has learned over the years to accept. Luckily, she doesn't make a habit of lying to him if she can avoid it. She honestly isn't sure what to expect when the time finally comes for Riku to seek answers about his father. Finn and Poe had been remarkable fill-ins as role models, but now that she and Riku have been forced to leave Dantooine, the chances that they'll meet again before the end of the war had become slim. The questions are sure to come eventually, but Rey will decide what to do in the moment. Right now, she needs to focus on getting them to Echo Base before they freeze to death._

_The wind picks up and she squints hard through the icy needles pricking her face. Just visible in the white haze of flurried snow is the faint outline of the laser turret that marks the perimeter of Echo Base. Its spherical, armored hood is regrettably white as well, but she'd been watching for such a shape based on the layout specs the General provided before their departure. She hadn't been able to land near the base; some prior storm had damaged the doors of the enclosed landing pad, according to the communications officer who hailed them, and the terrain around the base is unsuitable for ships over a certain weight. This will be the last time she would be flying the Falcon anyway; Leia had asked her to leave it behind in favor of anonymity._

_Something pricks at her consciousness, a tiny warning beacon of awareness. She turns away from the warmer haven of the base ahead to look behind them. She notes Riku's scarf-covered face is also turned in the same direction. If they can both sense something, then it must be more than a passing disquiet. She isn't, however, going to wait for whatever lurks in the swirling obscurity behind them to make itself known._

_“Riku,” she calls over the whipping wind. Her son's head snaps in her direction, worry evident in his eyes. “Let's run to the base...I think...I think something's coming.” Riku nods automatically and grabs her outstretched hand, falling in step beside her as she breaks into a light jog just slow enough for him to keep up. The snowdrifts are deceptive. What looks like smooth, unbroken ground in some places gives way like stiff quicksand and it's not long before they sink with sudden gravity up to their waists in the packed snow molded around them._

_She is pulling Riku from such a drift as high as his armpits when a reverberating roar rolls out wetly from somewhere in the snowscape behind them. It is animal and bloodthirsty, and Rey feels a tremor of panic at how perilously near it is. She doesn't waste time trying to help Riku find his feet again in the snow. She hoists him quickly into her arms and tells him, “Hurry, climb onto my back.”_

_Riku obeys without hesitation and locks his arms around her neck from behind. She climbs swiftly out of the depression of sunken snow and begins to run as fast as she can toward the base, her hands tucked tightly beneath Riku's knees. She can hear it now, the scrape of claws digging furrows into the ice and snow-covered ground in accelerated intervals; the huff of a labored breath bellowing in and out of a cavernous chest. There is a creature chasing after them, and it's close. It roars again, and the echoing sound makes her wince as it rings in her eardrums. She feels her son shift himself on her back and knows he's trying to get a good look at whatever is behind them. It must be terrible, because he suddenly yells, “Mama! Look out!”_

_She's cut herself off entirely from the Force at Luke's behest, but her reflexes are still quick and the muscles in her legs heed her demands as she strafes sharply to the side and ducks the heavy swipe she feels displacing the air. She crouches low, mindful of the precious weight of her son clinging to her back and thankful that the ground beneath her feet is solid enough for the fleet motion. Her relief at the successful dodge is short-lived as she spins around to face their attacker._

_The creature is a heaving mass of white fur, stained teeth and horns. Its ponderous bulk is easily four times her size. Rey backpedals hastily as it lumbers forward with hard, weighty stomps to the frozen ground. It tracks her movements hungrily with glossy, pupil-less eyes. She can smell it's rank odor from here, but she doesn't want to turn her back on it; she'll have to though, if they have any chance of getting away._

_The terrain around them is mostly flat, but as she frantically scans her surroundings she notes a rock formation rising out of the snow a few seconds' sprint behind the creature. It's just a collection of snow-dusted boulders, but there's a narrow passageway weaving its way between the rock that might be of use. Though, she isn't sure she can get there fast enough with Riku on her back._

_Rey dodges another vicious, lunging swipe at her face and hears Riku's muffled gasp near her ear. She circles quickly around the beast as it recovers from its momentum, noting its slow reaction time. It's large and the weight of its furred paws look as though they could crush a man's head with nothing but a glancing blow, but its speed is greatly hampered by its size. Whatever its natural prey may be, it's not used to a creature as nimble as Rey._

_“Riku, I need you to run,” she says urgently over her shoulder. She watches the beast turn clumsily to face her, a growl rumbling from its chest. “When I tell you, jump off my back and run as fast as you can toward the base, alright?” The beast is losing patience, and she knows instinctively that it will eventually bypass these methodical, probing attacks and just charge forward to overwhelm her. She needs Riku to be safely away before that happens._

_“Mama, what if it gets you!” Riku cries into her ear, his voice so clear and strong that she thinks he must have dislodged his scarf._

_“It won't,” Rey answers with more bravado than she feels as she continues to side-step around the beast, keeping with the creature's shambling movements. She can sense that it's looking for an opening. “See how slow it is? It can barely keep up. I'm going to lure it over to those rocks, but I need you to run, Riku.”_

_“Okay.” She hears the reluctant note of agreement, but Rey doesn't have the time to reassure him. She begins to lower herself so that Riku can slide off her back, her eyes locked on the snarling beast._

_“On my mark...” she says slowly. The beast tilts its head curiously at her sudden stillness. It must not be as stupid as she initially thought. It knows she's up to something. She doubts that it's completely sentient, but it is still a predator through and through._

_She waits for the telltale dig of its heels in the snow before she shouts, “Run!” Riku's weight leaves her back and she rushes forward, right into the aggressive swing of the creature's claws. At the last second, before the deadly talons make impact, she drops to the ground on her knees and darts in-between its white furred legs. Her feet scramble for traction in the wet snow but she narrowly clears its reach and bursts forward to emerge on the other side. The creature grabs uselessly at the place where she used to be, but Rey is already on her feet and running in the direction of the rock formation._

_Behind her, she hears an inhuman roar of frustration and threads her way in-between the tightly spaced rocks, turning and waiting for the creature to close in. Her hand pulls the lightsaber from her belt, clutching it tightly in uneasy anticipation._

_The creature rushes the entrance of the passageway with a rumbling snarl and takes several ungainly steps into the cramped breach. But then, for some strange reason, its attention seems to visibly wane, and abruptly it pauses. Its giant furred head lurches to the side, but Rey frowns in confusion; why isn't it trying to get to her? She needs the close quarters and the narrow trap of the rocks to dispatch it quickly with her saber._

_She follows its blackened gaze and her heart catches in her throat. Riku. **Riku**! _

_Why is he still there? Her son is frozen in place, blurred through the haze of snow and further away than when she left him but still much, much too close. His eyes are wide as he stares at the beast suddenly watching him back, and belatedly seems to realize the true danger he's in at that very moment. He turns and takes off running like a swamp-hare, his little legs pumping furiously. But the creature has made the decision to pursue, roaring its triumph at its discovery of a much easier opponent. Rey bursts into motion and climbs over the wall of the rock formation in one smooth leap, hand clenched around her lightsaber as she chases madly after them both. She has to get to the creature first._

_Her son is quick, but the creature's heavy-footed gait covers twice the ground. The creature's shadow darkens her son's fleeing form. It looms over him and snarls with deadly intent. With only seconds left to spare, she realizes that Riku isn't going to make it. He turns around, likely because he can feel the heat of the creature almost upon him. Rey has just managed to activate her lightsaber when her son raises a small hand to aim at the towering mass of muscle and fur bearing down on him._

_She is readying to strike from behind when the creature is suddenly lifted off the ground, hurtling through the air toward her. Her arms windmill as she whips to the side to skirt its massive bulk, and she hears the harsh buzz of her saber searing through thick fur as it passes inches from her face. Her nostrils fill with the odor of burning hair and charred meat._

_The beast makes a strangled sound as it flies beyond her to land on the snow with a heavy thud. Rey hastens to reach Riku, grabbing at his shoulders and searching his face and body for injuries with a critical eye. He seems to be unscathed but he's shaking so hard beneath her hands. She pulls him to her in an effort to soothe both of their nerves as she casts her gaze over at the twitching beast that lies supine on the ground. The once predatory creature looks as though it's been paralyzed by some crushing pressure. Riku had instinctively used the Force to push it back, but somehow...somehow he had damaged it beyond his reckoning._

_Rey runs a hand over his hooded head in brief comfort before she murmurs to Riku quietly to stay where he is. Cautiously, she approaches the creature. It's still jerking erratically, but its glassy eyes are unfocused and unseeing. She stops a safe distance away, but even from here she can see blood lining the bruised, unnatural concave of its chest. It's dying, and quickly – its deep wheezing grows ever shallower as she watches._

_Riku, on terrified instinct, and without training or experience, had incapacitated and fatally wounded a creature more than capable of dismembering grown men with nothing more than its bare paws. He had done it without thought or effort and wielded the Force more adeptly in that moment than she had ever managed in all of her intensive training with Luke. Rey knew now why Luke and the General felt it imperative that they evade Kylo Ren and the First Order at all costs. Riku was a born prodigy, and the swiftness and efficiency with which he could potentially kill at such a young age would be a coveted prize for the Dark side if he were ever captured. Ren's obsession to corrupt wouldn't stop with Rey; it would extend to her progeny as well._

_Her head whips up as she hears noises in the distance. Following so soon after the their violent encounter does not bode well. Quickly, she retraces her steps back to Riku and pushes his trembling form behind her, holding her lightsaber defensively in front of them. If the creature has a mate, Rey will need to be quick about disabling it; it's clear that trying to lure it into an obvious trap won't work. The noises becomes louder and Rey braces herself for imminent danger. She really, really hates this planet._

_Dark shapes are all she can make out at first, but eventually those shapes become the bustling figures of men. Out of the flurried snow they emerge, carrying blaster weapons and dressed in blue snow gear as they march forward in squad formation. Rey's shoulders slump in relief, powering down her lightsaber. They've come from the base._

_“Hullo!” one of the men calls over the howl of wind and pulls to the front of the group as they arrive. He sports a mustache as white as the snow surrounding them on a friendly but weathered face. “We saw the wampa tracking you, nasty animals,” he projects loudly. “They hunt best in these conditions and we couldn't get a clear shot from the turret in this storm.”_

_He glances over at the felled creature laying motionless in a snow drift, and if he questions how a slender girl and child survived such an animal alone, he doesn't voice it. “Sorry we're late to the party. Rey, is it?” He thrusts out a thickly gloved hand and Rey slowly extends her own to meet it, still a bit off-balanced . “Drue in communications told us you landed just a short while ago. I'm Captain Tomsal. If you'll follow me, we'll get you inside and out of this blizzard. We've got a ship loaded full of supplies and waiting for you. Courtesy of General Organa.”_

_Rey gives a perfunctory nod, foregoing any polite responses she may have had in favor of getting immediately out of the cold. She doesn't know the Captain but she also hadn't warranted an entourage the last time she visited Hoth either. If she's lucky, they'll never have to return to this planet again._

_Riku suddenly clutches at her hand beside her and Rey throws him a concerned look, searching his face intently for some hint of the cause of his distress. Can Riku sense some other hidden danger that she cannot? But as she sees the misery on his face and the tear tracks on his cheeks already frosted over with snow, she realizes what has him so distressed._

_“Riku,” she says as some of the Echo Base Resistance soldiers march on ahead of them. Two have stayed behind to bring up the rear but they are out of earshot. Rey's freezing, but she also doesn't want to let her son suffer any longer than he has to. She leans down to hold him by the shoulders.“You didn't do it on purpose. I know that.”_

_“I was just trying to push it away,” he says so quietly it's almost lost to the wind. “Is it...d-did I hurt it badly?”_

_She doesn't know how to answer him without crushing his hopes further. But she does know that if it came to a life and death scenario, she didn't want him to hesitate. Anger and passion were sure paths to the Dark side Luke had always said, but if it meant his survival...well, she would work on teaching him to limit his use of the Force to only dire situations. However, she doesn't want this particular lesson to be lost._

_“He was a monster, Riku. And when you encounter monsters that want to hurt you, you have to defend yourself at all costs.” She thumbs away the trail of frost on his cheeks. “But just remember, not all monsters have fur and teeth. Sometimes, monsters can be men.”_

_“But how will I know?” he asks her mournfully._

_She thinks for a moment, mindful of the men waiting impatiently for them to move along. But this is important, and she wants to make sure Riku understands._

_“By their actions,” she says finally. “A true monster will show you who they are, by what they do. Eventually, everyone shows their true colors.”_  


* * *

  
Her child—her sweet, somber-faced boy whom had become his own solitary diversion when she and his adoptive uncles were too busy, or the children on the base were too frightened—thought there was a chance that his mother might hate him. 

Riku clung to her hard, and she could feel the breath hitching from his chest as he tried to hold back his tears. He thought she blamed him. He'd been ruthlessly manipulated by his father in a moment of loneliness and Rey's hands itched terribly for her lightsaber just then, suddenly vibrating with the need to give Ren a twin scar on the other side of his face. Her son had never _intentionally_ harmed another soul in all of his short life, and it especially devastated him to think that he might be the cause of his mother's distress. With her back turned to him, Rey was unable to flay Ren alive with her eyes like she desperately wanted, so she settled on soothing her son's fears.

“Riku,” Rey whispered into her son's hair. She heard him sniffle and pulled back so she could look at his tear-tracked face. “Now you listen to me,” she told him, her grip firm on his little shoulders, “I could never, ever, hate you. No matter what. None of this, not one bit of it, was your fault. Do you hear me?” Her heart broke again as he pulled his gaze from hers and nodded miserably at the floor. 

“I love you, Riku,” she said urgently with every bit of emotion within her, and was glad when he raised his head to meet her eyes again. “I'll always love you. You're my little piece of starlight,” she told him with a small smile.

She saw color bloom in his pale cheeks and his eyes strayed timidly over her shoulder, but he leaned forward anyway to wrap his arms around her neck. Rey squeezed him tightly to her again and wondered if she'd really just witnessed embarrassment flit over his face at the pet name in front of Ren. He used to love the comparison and it was hard to come to grips with the fact he was growing old enough to care, or that Riku even gave his estranged father's opinion any credence whatsoever. Rey had a brief, violent fantasy of singeing Ren's perfect hair along with his face as retribution for influencing her son in such a way. 

From the hallway outside of her quarters, General Phasma cleared her throat lightly. Rey had momentarily forgotten that the woman was even still present. 

“Supreme Leader,” Phasma's Coruscant accented-voice intoned pleasantly. “I'm needed on the bridge, but I trust you'll let me know if you require anything else?”

“Of course. Dismissed, Phasma,” Rey heard the man in question respond in his usual imperious way, though there was an odd inflection laced into it. “As always, your discretion is appreciated.“

Phasma nodded and gave a crisp salute at the dismissal, but she paused to look down at Riku kindly. “It was very nice to meet you, Riku. You are truly an exceptional young man.” It was said with the ghost of a smile and Rey watched her son pull himself from her embrace and straighten, tipping his chin up. 

“Thank you, General Phasma,” her son answered seriously, perplexing Rey further with the oddly formal tone. It had only been a matter of days that they'd been apart, but already Riku's behavior seemed strangely altered. He was still her gentle little boy as evidenced by their emotional reunion, but it was almost as if his mannerisms were bordering on the side of...courtly. He was only six years old. Rey had a dawning suspicion that his father had something to do with this change and she couldn't wait to get her son away from his sphere of influence. 

The towering woman in the hall inclined her head with just as much gravity and then, without even turning her head in their direction, crooked her fingers at the Stormtroopers awaiting her command. With the swift, exacting steps of someone used to walking in formation, Phasma strode smoothly out of view with a trail of armored men marching behind her. 

Two Stormtroopers lingered, however, and stepped just inside the doorway to Rey's quarters, standing stiffly at attention. Guards, Rey realized with dawning irritation. She stood up from her crouch by Riku and immediately turned on Ren. “What's this?” She gestured pointedly at the Stormtroopers. “I thought I was supposed to have uninterrupted time with my son?” 

Ren glanced down quickly at Riku, then met her eyes again with a decidedly cooler expression. “And you will, with supervision.”

Rey felt her hackles rise. She wanted more than anything to give Ren a piece of her mind, but with Riku in the room, it was neither appropriate nor safe to do so. 

“Fine. Is there anything else, oh great and powerful _Supreme Leader_?” she quipped as she glared daggers at him. 

He was quiet for a beat before he took a step forward and wrapped his gloveless fingers around her forearm. “Yes. A moment of your time, in the other room.” 

Rey paled. She absolutely did not want to be alone with Ren again, but she also knew that she didn't want to argue in front of her son. Riku was watching them both with visible unease, his gaze darting down to Ren's hand on her arm. It was hard to hide such volatile emotions from a Force-sensitive child, but she needed to try, if only to keep him from being further traumatized. 

“Alright,” she said with a forced smile through clenched teeth. 

Ren's eyes narrowed at her, but he redirected his gaze to address Riku. “The panel on the wall by the viewport is similar to the one in your room.” Ren jerked his chin in its direction. “It has a removable datapad just like yours, with similar programming. Amuse yourself while I speak with your mother.” 

She'd wondered vaguely what Riku had been doing to keep himself entertained, and clearly Ren had been trying to distract him from the situation at hand with the flashy sleekness of First Order technology. It was a poor distraction now, Rey thought, as she saw Riku nod hesitantly at his father with wary eyes. He was just too observant of others' emotions. It was how he knew the children on the Resistance base feared him, or when a well-timed hug would cheer her up when her thoughts dwelled too heavily on the past. In some ways, Riku had grown up much too soon. He knew something deeper was amiss now, and Rey regretted ever questioning Ren in front of him. She didn't want Riku worried for her.

“It's alright, Riku. We'll just be a moment. And then you can show me what that gadget can really do.” 

She tried to smile at him, but Ren pulled her after him into the bedroom, waiting for the door to slide shut before he turned her to face him. He didn't release her arm, though she tried her best to free it.

“You will not undermine me in front of him.” His voice held a subtle edge of menace. “Is that understood?” 

Rey felt the snarl curling her lip reflexively. She didn't like being bullied into behaving for him and her anger over his manipulative tactics came roaring to the surface. “He's _my_ son, Ren. But whatever you say, _Supreme Leader_. Your word is law here, of course,” she said with a snide roll of her eyes.

“My word is law everywhere,” Ren said, squeezing her arm a little tighter and leaning down into her face. “In case you've forgotten, I'm the Supreme Leader of the _entire galaxy_ now. And you may have stolen him from me, but the boy is my blood as well. I'm the only one who can teach him strength, so displays like what just happened in that room don't happen again in front of subordinates. You will _not_ interfere.”

”You complete and total monster!” Rey shouted into his face, pushing at his chest hard with the palm of her free hand. “I won't let you do it, Ren. I won't let you do to my son what Snoke did to you. Riku is more kind and good than you could ever comprehend, and he thinks he's _responsible_ for all of this. But we both know the truth, don't we?—that this is just you, indulging in your twisted little fantasies. Where I'm supposed to fall lovingly into your bed and forget every monstrous thing you've done. Where I let you willingly corrupt my son and turn him into a tool for your terrible empire. I won't stand for it, Ren. I love him too much to sit by and watch him suffer like that.” 

Without any warning at all, Ren released her arm. She jolted back inadvertently but Ren moved swiftly to grasp her chin between his fingers, startling her further as he drew her closer to silently study her face. He didn't look angry at her outburst; in fact, his eyes were wandering over her features as if he was trying to map them. “I know you care for him.” Ren remarked quietly, pinning her with a soft look. “Your maternal instincts run strongly through you.” 

Rey broke her gaze from his and tried to pull away again, uncomfortable with the intensity in his eyes. This time, he reluctantly let her go and she quickly backed up until she felt the wall behind her. She regarded his stiff form cautiously. He was turned away from her, his fists curled at his sides as if he was trying to choose his words carefully.

“I told you before, I have no intention of harming the boy. It's important to me that he reach his true potential.” He looked over at her with a touch of awe in his eyes. “The Force is so strong within him, I've never felt anything like it before. But he is malleable, and much too trusting. It would take hardly any effort at all for someone like Snoke to twist him to their purpose and use him against me. I want to make him strong so that won't happen.”

“You manipulated him--”

“He is my _son_. Once I knew of his existence, I knew he would be safest with me. You tried to hide him from me, playing house with that weakling traitor of a Stormtrooper and filling his head with lies about what the First Order would do if he were ever found. As if that piece of blaster fodder would ever understand what it means to have a Force-sensitive child—”

“What does _Finn_ have to do with any of this?” Rey burst out, baffled by his assumptions. “And are you seriously telling me I should have come running to you—you, a morally corrupt, homicidal maniac who chased me across the galaxy burning planets in your wake—and said, hey, want to raise a child together?”

“You should have never left me in the first place,” Ren growled at her angrily, and strangely his mind was suddenly open to her. The collar made it difficult to shield herself from the onslaught of frustrated, hurt emotions momentarily infiltrating her thoughts, but it was staunched as quickly as it had begun. It clearly hadn't been his intention to share such feelings with her in the moment yet as he stared back her, his chest somewhat heaving with the passion of his words, she knew this was the crux of their entire conflict. 

She had known, in the back of her mind, that part of Ren's aggressive pursuit of her had been motivated by her denial of their Bond. She had resolutely cut herself off from it and him when she fled from the _Finalizer_ , and she had felt its aftermath like a sickness consuming her thoughts for months. It had been one of the greatest temptations of her life to peek inside of his head again, to lower her defensive shields for just a moment to feel the dark warmth of his presence on the other side of the Bond. But her need for secrecy then was too great, and the more the soft curve of her belly rounded, the more determined she became in staying away. She would not risk it. 

But she had worried...worried that her absence might be partly to blame for some of the First Order's most recent cruelties. Each time she had slipped through Ren's fingers, the accounts she heard of First Order activities had seemed to grow more ruthless, the legends of his deeds more shadowed in Darkness. She couldn't help but wonder what the man standing before her now would become if she ever made it off this ship. How many people would die if she and her son escaped his reach? 

Her lips parted to respond, unsure of even what to say after such a declaration, but Ren's head suddenly turned away from her to look at the door. He stared at it silently for a long moment, and then without a word to her, he walked over and waved it open with the Force. 

Riku was standing just on the other side, and he started when he realized they were both looking askance at him. He was holding a razor-thin, transparent datapad in his hands, but there was an odd pattern etched into its surface, like a crystallized starburst radiating out to the edges. Rey tilted her head a bit and saw that the starburst actually cut all the way through the device. It was shattered, as if some heavy object had been smashed with great force into its center. The guilty glance Riku gave it as he stammered to explain himself told her that he was likely responsible. “I-I'm sorry. It won't work.” 

Ren approached him slowly and gently pulled the datapad from his small hands, inspecting the damage briefly before he handed it back. “I'll have someone bring a new one.” 

He glanced back at Rey standing by the wall, but quickly looked away and laid a hand on Riku's shoulder. “I have duties to attend to now, but you're free to spend the afternoon here until combat training. Lunch will be served in a few hours, but refrain from eating too much. We have a hard session up ahead.” 

Rey was stunned as she watched Ren run a hand over the dark mop of Riku's curls in affection, before he stepped past him and into the main room beyond. She came up beside Riku and pulled him close to rest against her hip as she watched Ren from the doorway, striding purposefully to the exit of her quarters. With a wave of his hand, the door slid open and he passed between the two Stormtroopers. He disappeared through the threshold without a backwards glance at either of them. 

“Mama, are you okay?” her son asked as he turned to look up at her with concern.

She cupped his cheek lovingly and brushed the hair from his forehead, struck again at how similar he looked to his father. “Yes, Riku,” she said in a dazed voice, as she glanced back at the door through which Ren had departed. “I'll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like, I'm approaching 500 kudos, and I'm sitting here kinda in shock. Like, how did this HAPPEN??? Why are you guys so awesome???? It gives me so much motivation to write and I'm so beyond words with how grateful I am (hence the word vomit). Thank you, honestly & truly!
> 
> Also...just so people aren't sending me death threats *dontkillmeplzkthxbye* – I know my usual update cycle is around 7 days, but I just recently acquired an awesome beta (thank you so, so much @sosanguine!) and have also come to the realization that I would rather put out quality than force myself to update on a schedule with something sub-par. This doesn't mean I won't be regularly updating, just that it may vary by a few days depending on whether or not I throw myself down the editing elevator shaft. I've been pretty active on tumblr lately (http://theauraki.tumblr.com), so I'll be sure to keep you guys apprised of updates or potential delays. It should still be pretty consistent though. Hope you all had a fabulous Halloween!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a strange update cycle. It's been 3 weeks since my last update (why does this sound like confession??), but I sort of needed a breather in order to maintain that happy little fic writer demeanor I so require. Thank you so much for your patience--I sometimes really need it. :) I also wrote some hardcore Reylo porn in the downtime, so...yeah. (more about that at the end). Serious props to @sosanguine for her patience, feedback, and support! 
> 
> Lastly, before you dive in, PLEASE check out these truly amazing pieces of fanart I commissioned from panda-cappucino for Mine To Hold. They. Are. Fabulous. Like seriously. And suggestively tasteful, but crazy-hot too. I wouldn't lie to you!!! You can find them here. (http://theauraki.tumblr.com/post/152875087982/so-if-anyone-doubts-that-i-am-a-rabid-reylo-fan)

_The streets of Asmeru's capital are congested and narrow, a series of clogged arteries that feed into the city center with a pulsating urgency. Rickshaw droids and urban speeders zip around heavier, clumsier transports in daring maneuvers that look like a never-ending series of near-misses. Anyone not adept at calculating the squeeze of tight-fitting spaces would be hyperventilating to witness it, but Rey has experience with such things._

_The rain pelts steadily, adding a shimmer to the amalgamation of gleaming chrome merchant vehicles and rusting trundle cars. It unfortunately does nothing to wash away the filth mired in seemingly every crevice of the city, though Rey is avoiding the runnels of trash and detritus that flood the gutters lining the streets. She opts for the skinny passages between building structures, her hand shielding a battered GPS device from the spatter of raindrops in order to navigate._

_The parts shop is roughly a twenty minute walk, according to her digital guide. She is led through cramped walkways and shadowy paths that skirt the more brightly-lit main thoroughfares like a fugitive's dream. They are mostly deserted of pedestrians too, though the rain hasn't managed to deter some of the gaunt-faced peddlers huddling beneath threadbare awnings. They are strangers, but the hunger and desperation in their eyes is disturbingly familiar. She hurries past them, concentrating on the glowing blip of her navigator that urges her deeper into the back streets._

_There are no local law enforcement officers patrolling this far from the city hub, but the types of establishments located in the buildings and alleys between are neither reputable nor entirely legal. She passes by gambling halls and brothels and a butcher that she is almost certain has a human hand stashed in a refrigerated case, before the dingy curtain falls back into place._

_She has seen worse. Asmeru was not known to be a shining bastion of morality anyway and from what she's witnessed so far of its heterogeneous mix of denizens, life here seems to be either exceedingly decadent or unapologetically cruel. The only exceptions were travelers like herself passing through, and a handful of thugs who obviously capitalized on the poverty of the less fortunate. She has learned in her travels that the way of life she experienced on Jakku was mirrored on many other planets. That the weak always suffered the most, and the strong took advantage when they could._

_Rey swipes at the droplets dampening her lashes to clear her vision. She is used to rain by now. Ahch-To's general climate sided on rainy when it wasn't stiflingly humid, and Master Luke had never allowed her to shirk training just because of a little precipitation. But Luke...she didn't want to think of Luke right now. She'd only just left him on his chosen planet of isolation, staring after her with farseeing eyes as she flew the Millennium Falcon out of Ahch-To's orbit. He was lightyears away now, and she was here, trying her best not to spiral into debilitating melancholy._

_It's almost unnoticeable, like a soft sigh on the wind, but she suddenly becomes aware of a simmering consciousness in her mind that is not her own. She's reluctant to acknowledge it, but feigning ignorance is pointless. 'Ren?' she questions cautiously, irritably._

_'That took longer than I expected. But then, your sadness is distracting.'_

_She pauses in the alleyway, drawing the notice of a crouching beggar who lifts his head to watch her. Rey blinks rapidly and starts walking again, eyeing a shallow depression cut into the side of a building that is barely shielded by the rain. It's out of the way and she can pretend to seek shelter there, rather than stand in the alley gaping like a mark for the con artists._

_'Leave me alone,' she growls forcibly in her mind at him, but she can feel as well as hear his amusement. He is always so damn smug._

_'Why, when we both know that you're suffering right now. Your loneliness feels more...potent than before. It called to me. What happened?'_

_It takes her a moment to register that Kylo Ren of the First Order is asking after her well-being. 'Surely you jest?' she says with an incredulousness that she's positive translates to her face. 'Why would I share my troubles with you, my worst enemy? A cold-blooded murderer and kidnapper whose greatest desire is to corrupt me? You aren't just a monster, you're kriffin' mad.' Her anger at him feels hotter than ever, and she knows that some part of her must still be affected by her recent confrontation with Luke. It didn't used to rise up so quickly._

_'So there **are** troubles,' Ren answers knowingly. 'And enemy? I'm flattered, really, but enemy is a poor choice of words. I don't offer to teach my enemies. I deal with them swiftly and without mercy, like the passing distractions that they are. I don't allow their memory to linger, or wonder what it could be like if they would just submit.'_

_He sounds almost wistful, and the hush of his voice in her mind is intimate, caressing. 'No, opposing forces are closer to what we are. Partners in aggression. And I enjoy conquering my sparring partners, to show them the error of underestimating me. To show them what it feels like to be bested, utterly and completely.'_

_It would be easy to fall into the soft, seductive picture he paints, a hazy reverie of Ren as Master and Rey his student, circling each other closer and closer, weapons drawn like an afterthought as they move through the steps of a dance as old as time. The vision would be dangerously beautiful had the reality of their circumstances not been a factor, had he not been the Dark knight serving under an even Darker overlord, and she the lost scavenger flirting with an unforgivable offense against people to whom she had once professed loyalty._

_She won't allow herself to be wooed by such fallacies, so she decides instead to snort aloud in derision at the innuendo and condescension oozing all over his words. 'Well, lovely chat and all, but I'm not here for you to conquer, Ren.' She means it in more ways than one, and feels a brief measure of satisfaction when she senses his displeasure. Rey closes her eyes and concentrates on erecting a barrier that blocks him out. He had been right, her sadness had distracted her long enough to give him an opening. Luckily he could only really read her emotions and not her thoughts unless she projected them. She hadn't unwittingly given him full access to her mind, much to her relief._

_She'd almost been successful in compartmentalizing her turbulent emotions since her abrupt departure from Ahch-To, but they begin to surface again with a clarity that slumps her shoulders against the wall behind her. She doesn't know what she's doing now. Since she'd left her former Master, she feels despairingly uncertain of her place in this universe filled with people with such obvious purpose. Even Ren, murderer and egomaniac that he was, had a purpose. On Jakku, it had just been about surviving until the day she would see her family again. Now, she is so far removed from that potential that she can't think of it for long, for fear of totally breaking down. She's drifting, without a home or cause worthy of fighting for, and she is back to feeling like that lone, little scavenger who toils against the shifting sands threatening to swallow her up._

_Maybe it's better this way. Rey had always felt out of place in the Resistance, and once Luke recounted the events that took place on the ocean cliffs of Ahch-To, they would never be able to trust her again. Poe and Finn would be so disappointed in her, though they would try to hide it. They were good men, but even they would have reason to doubt her loyalties. She had let their ultimate adversary—and he most certainly is **their** adversary—inside her head, if not entirely willingly, then subconsciously. She'd also recited the code of the Jedi's ancient enemy in a fit of anger and enacted violence against their chosen avatar of salvation. The Resistance would no longer be able to consider her an ally, but a liability._

_Rey still has the lightsaber Luke gifted her; not the recovered blue saber of his youth, which Ren had confiscated on Karideph, but a weapon of a similar, glowing energy pulse that had belonged to some Jedi of times past. Luke had never given her the full story behind it, but it hadn't called to her like his had on Takodana. Still, it served as a sufficient practice weapon on Ahch-To and now it lay innocuously in her shoulder bag, a painful reminder of all that she'd given up._

_She feels the push of Ren's mind again, and she doesn't know why exactly, but she allows the barest trickle of his consciousness to filter through. She is still mostly fortified against him and stands ready to swiftly slam the opening shut if he abuses it, but she's starting to feel cold inside, empty and alone, and his presence radiates heat and passion and a false sense of kinship that she knows is more of a lure than anything else. But she finds she needs it right now, if only to push her through her next task. She should be on her way, and the longer she lingers the easier it will be to fall into a sea of her own regrets. Rey straightens from the wall and ventures back out into the rain, resuming the hunt for the parts shop._

_Her choices had been limited once she fled Luke's judgments and Asmeru proved her best one. It wasn't wise to go to any planet that had a strong First Order presence, nor had she wanted to chance any place she knew of with Resistance ties. Her travel had been dictated by the sparse rations she had on the ship and her fueling needs; with the meager hoard of credits she'd received from the Resistance for various runs, she had known she'd need to pawn off something soon, before she ran out of food or oxygen. As much as it pains her to do so, her only option is to dismantle parts of the ship to sell. It is unfortunate given her growing attachment to it, but it's the only thing she has of value besides her borrowed lightsaber._

_The Falcon was a hodgepodge of worn out couplings and antiquated components miraculously held together by Han's ingenuity with hyperdrive engineering and core system routing. Since her slapdash escape from Jakku, the ship's durability had slowly gained Rey's admiration with every spaceflight, because while Han hadn't skimped on the important parts—the power coils and motivator were still considered quite impressive—the rest of the ship resembled a mess of hacked-together parts that would have only yielded a handful of portions in her scavenging days. Fortunately, she won't need the coils or motivator for much longer, as she planned to find a place to dock the Falcon indefinitely. She couldn't disappear from beneath the Resistance's radar if one of their most recognizable ships was still in her possession._

_Though she is farther away from the well-lit avenues of the capital, the navigator leads her to a bustling offshoot of one the main roads, cutting across the suggested path like a turbulent river. The city skyline rises in the distance, a collection of geometric shapes against a backdrop of gray sky. She sighs, frowning down at the outmoded device. It had been one of Han's, left over from his incredibly brief reunion with his favorite ship. He'd only flown the Falcon a handful of places before..before he was reunited with his son. She'd found the navigator stashed beneath the co-pilot console, but hadn't thought to update it with current mapping. Now, she is facing a densely-trafficked street with no clear route to circumvent it._

_Her eyes stray back to the walkway she'd just traversed, lined with squat buildings and low rooftops. Closer to the city center the buildings towered, but these look as though they could be scaled by a practiced climber. Tracing her gaze up and across the line of mismatched roofing, gutter systems, and cabling, she thinks she can see a path that will take her to the other side of the street. Over seems a much better solution than through, judging from the angry bleats of commuter vehicles swerving dramatically around a stalled freight-puller._

_Rey backtracks and takes the alley between two of the buildings, examining the best option for ascent. She's approaching one of the smaller ones with a noticeable dip in it's roofing, a credit lending facility from the looks of it, when she hears a rowdy clamor from behind. She turns to see a set of double doors open and five men step out into the rain, laughing and jeering at one another, each markedly different from the next. Not all of them are human, though the one with the most pronounced swagger appears to be; her eyes squint to read the sign written in Galactic Basic above the door swinging shut behind them. A brothel, and a low rent one at that._

_She turns away from them, considering the hidden footholds tucked into the siding of the building she needs to scale, but startles as she hears a guttural laugh rumble just behind her. Awareness slowly creeps into her mind and she picks up a few idle thoughts from the men now standing alarmingly close. She closes her eyes, kicking herself internally for not identifying the threat sooner. One mind in particular is focused on the shape and pliancy of her backside, and another on how weak and frail she appears._

_Ren's warm presence takes notice as well, and she feels him pressing against the small opening she's left him, suddenly burning hotter as he manages to successfully widen the aperture into her mind. He's exploiting it ruthlessly and then she feels him firmly wedge himself in her consciousness, sensing what she senses, seeing what she sees. She hadn't known he could do such a thing, and at any other moment she would be fiercely wrestling for control, desperately fighting off his horrific invasion of privacy. It's dangerous, so dangerous that she feels that twinge of the Force, the special frequency that usually indicates impending hardship. The one she somehow ignored when it came to the trouble standing a few feet away. But then she hears someone speak aloud._

_“Look what we found, boys,” the gravely voice says behind her, a sneering arrogance coloring the words. “No need to end the fun early just because we're outta credits.”_

_As she turns to face them, the skies above decide to unleash the full extent of their elemental wrath, the percussion of hard rain hitting the permacrete and building rooftops like a tribal song. The men don't look fazed by it; perhaps they are also used to climates such as these. Their visible leader smiles at her sharply through the downpour, his straight, gleaming white teeth at odds with the rest of his grizzled appearance. Up close, he would be frightening to anyone who hadn't grown up surrounded by all manner of life towering over them. But Rey is not afraid. The rest of them are varying levels of rough, and her jaw clenches when she sees the tongue of one, an expressionless Nikto with a crest of scales fanning around his face, slithering out in salacious hunger._

_She widens her stance and attempts to make herself look a bit more formidable. “You're making a grave error,” she projects loudly over the beat of rain, glancing dismissively over each man in turn. “I'd leave things be, if I were you. I'm not one to trifle with.”_

_Even with five on one, Rey knows that she isn't really outmatched, but she can't help the anger that flashes up her spine like an overloaded ignition plug when the group of men throw back their heads and laugh, their gruff leader guffawing the loudest of them all. She tries, she really does, to control it but she feels the emotion catch fire and spread like an electric warmth inside her, whispering along the edges of her control. The dark, attentive presence in her mind is only fueling the feeling, flaring as hotly as the anger rolling through the rest of her._

_'They're laughing at you,' Ren says to her in a low snarl. 'These fools whose lives rest in your hands, who would grind like so much dust beneath your heel.' She grits her teeth together in annoyance. Ren's commentary isn't helping her control. It feels strange with him in her head like this, a duality of consciousnesses feeding off one another until the tension is vibrating through her. His anger is her anger, her resentment his, a mishmash of violent wants and aggression and primal instinct. Yes, this is very dangerous._

_“You're a brave little girl,” the leader finally addresses her again, when he's finished indulging in his sadistic mirth. “Stupid, but brave.” He leers and his eyes trail over her drenched clothing. “And I like that. Almost as much as I like teaching brave little girls lessons they won't soon forget.” The leader's pointed canines flash as he signals to the men behind him. Two of them step forward, hulking and predatory with cruel smiles cutting across their faces like knives._

_She feels Ren's responsive fury surge through her mind then at the insinuation, wrathful and burning and tasting of a supremacy that has never known what it felt like to be too small or too weak to defend. He wants to see them begging for their lives on their knees, wants their gazes locked on the glow of her lightsaber as it swings down to sever them from this mortal coil. She balks at the savagery of it, the pure hatred for these wastes of men that dare to want what doesn't belong to them. It's dizzying, these emotions she feels from Ren's side of their bizarre connection. Dark, overwhelming, and oddly protective, and had it not been channeling potently through every cell, readying her limbs for anticipatory violence, she might have been able to resist them. She might have tried to diffuse the situation by controlling these ruffians' minds with the Force and redirecting their thoughts to less nefarious deeds._

_Instead, she finds her hand inching beneath the flap of her bag to wrap tightly around the hilt of her saber, watching the approaching men with an artfully naive, wide-eyed expression. But her innocent visage is counterfeit, a product of the vengeful soul at the other end of her mind merge, murmuring a bid for patience as she encourages the two looming men to mistake her for prey. She—no, Ren— **wants** them to think they have her at a disadvantage as she lies in wait for the right moment. He wants them to get close enough to believe that they'll have a chance to enact their lecherous desires, to touch her with their filthy, unworthy hands. She is bait, but she is also their imminent reckoning._

_Fingers stretch toward her arm, barely inches away, and before she even realizes what she's done, her lightsaber is out and sizzling in an arc through the rain, whirling past her face in a tight circle to drop a smoking limb to the wet permacrete. The move takes mere seconds._

_The target of her attack staggers back in shock, staring in horror at the still smoldering stump of his severed right arm, before he emits a delayed scream. The other man closest to her doesn't seem to understand what's happened; he's gaping stupidly at the inert appendage on the ground, and Rey uses his distraction to jab a neat, saber-sized hole into his thigh. He shouts when she plants a foot on his knee to forcibly pull her saber from the cauterized wound, sending him backward to fall heavily to the wet ground as he clutches his thigh in agony._

_Rey lowers her saber to her side, surveying the damage with an amused twist of lips. This isn't her smug confidence that paints itself on her face, but it **feels** like hers, and she acts on it. She begins to move predaciously toward the remaining men, Ren's gratification at the fear wafting from them turning each step into a taunting, sinuous motion. She recognizes the realization in the leader's eyes, he knows he's misjudged her, but the dumbfounded look on his face quickly turns to panicked rage as he fumbles frantically with the holster at his belt._

_'Stupid walking corpse,' she hears Ren whisper in her mind with purring malice. 'He doesn't realize that his life was forfeit the moment he opened his mouth.' Rey wavers the lightsaber at her side with restless movement, allowing the buzzing sound to ramp the man's fear as he finally whips out a blaster weapon and trains it on her face. The men behind him have also followed suit, and she's betting on their weakness, waiting for the inevitable. She takes another step forward and the leader gives into his fear, squeezing the trigger--and time slows down._

_She has known for a while that she was capable of this, but she has never used it in a confrontation before. She feels Ren's thrumming approval when she raises a hand quicker than she thought possible and freezes the blaster bolt in the air before her face. The condensed energy floating in the air is a thing of beauty, still crackling like tethered lightening, but she moves past it dismissively and finally approaches the remaining men, their eyes frightened and awestruck, as if she were a deity of death come to reap their souls. 'You are,' she hears Ren avow reverently. 'You have.'_

_The men are poised to retreat, but the moment the leader starts to turn, she extends her hand and freezes them too. Even their terrified expressions are frozen on their faces, and she looks up into the confusion and panic on the leader's in particular, the fear at his sudden loss of control and the rapid switch from hunter to hunted. Rain streams into his eyes but he isn't able to even blink. No one truly believes in the Force anymore, assuming it was just an echo of mysticism from primitive times. She hears the same mantra running over and over in the man's mind :'This shouldn't be possible, it's not possible!' But here she is, a small, slender, slip of a girl, proving mastery over those who sought to harm her._

_The exhilaration of the moment causes her to smile, and she twirls her wrist in a subtle imitation of her Dark passenger to bring her saber up to the man's neck in blistering proximity. “The funny thing about lessons,” she says to him lightly, with just the barest hint of venom, “is that you have to know something that your student does not. And I'd say the only thing you know right now, is how to be a pathetic, spineless animal. What do you say?” She pretends to cock her ear towards him, straining to hear. “Nothing? That's really too bad.”_

_Her muscles bunch in anticipation, but a clatter sounds behind her, snapping her attention sideways. An old, gnarled peddler, covered from neck to ankle in dangling wares attached to a shoulder harness, is pressed against the wall a few buildings over, watching the exchange in rapt horror. He's not looking at the immobile piece of gutter trash that had planned to do unspeakable things to a passing stranger, but at her, the one holding a deadly saber made of energy to his throat. Like she's the real predator here. Her lips part to explain herself, but the old man realizes now that her attention is on him and he cringes visibly before he turns tail and runs, his sandals splashing through the creeping puddles left by the rain._

_She is left with her own dawning horror, and she flings the tip of her saber away from the leader's neck, suddenly panting with the awareness of what she had almost done, of what she had **wanted** to do. She backs away from the trio, stricken, and that's when she feels Ren's searing disappointment at her failure to act. 'They deserve it, Rey,' he says with a frustrated urgency in her mind. 'They'll just hurt someone else if you don't stop them.'_

_'And how many people will **I** hurt, Ren? When would **I** stop?' Her thumb depresses the activation stud on her saber, shuttering the energy blade as she stares at the men still awaiting her mercy in the pouring rain. Her eyes stray to the ground, skittering over the severed limb and landing on the navigator laying in a pool of water off to the side. She had tossed it away when she'd pulled out her lightsaber. She hadn't even remembered doing it, so far under Ren's influence that her movements had almost felt beyond her own control. She stoops to retrieve it, shoving it and her deactivated lightsaber into her bag before she gives the men one last look. They look like statues in the rain, frozen reminders of what vengeance would cost her._

_Rey turns away and looks upward, spying a suitable outcropping protruding from the building nearest to her. She needs to leave. Her sanity demands it right now. She walks up to the outcropping, gripping it tightly before swinging herself up to perch atop a slick ledge. She begins the climb up the side of the low building, and only when she reaches the roofing, when the men are out of her field of vision, does she release the hold she has on their frozen forms below._

_The humming twang of a blaster bolt hitting the wall echoes up to her place above, but she doesn't lean over the edge to see the aftermath of what she's leaving behind. She continues on, swinging across narrow gaps and edging along unintended footpaths to make her way over the rush of motorized traffic below. If she looks back, she'll need to face the terrible thing she almost did. What Luke had rightfully identified within her. She isn't ready to do that yet._

_Ren's presence is still resonating in her mind, but he stays quiet as she leaps over power lines and skirts spewing smokestacks, until she has almost made it to the other side. 'It was a mistake,' he says to her in somber resignation, 'letting them live.'_

_'Yes, well,' she is descending down a gutter pipe, and pauses to deliver her parting line. 'I'm sure people would say the same thing about you.' She uses his stunned silence to tamp down firmly on their connection, severing it thoroughly. She draws in a deep, steadying breath, and finishes the climb down._  
  


* * *

  
“Did they feed you anything? Are you hungry?” Rey asked her somber-faced boy as she ushered him gently to the little breakfast nook she'd uncovered in her earlier explorations of her quarters. Riku shook his head in refusal as he climbed into one of the high-backed chairs at the quaint little four-person table. The stupor of Ren's presence had faded with his departure, and Rey was incredibly eager to sit Riku down and discover everything that had transpired since she'd been separated from her son. He'd been in Ren's company for far too long in her opinion, and she could readily admit that she was desperately curious as to how their first real encounter had gone.

Riku's small fingers were worrying at a hangnail as he rested them on the glossy black table top, and she tried hard not to despair as she sat down catty-corner to him and watched him fidget. He wasn't looking her in the eye again and she suddenly felt so powerless, at a loss on how to repair the damage that had so obviously been wrought by Ren's interference in their lives.

His anxiety had already manifested itself in the most worrisome of ways, and she knew she would need to handle her probing with care if she didn't want to upset him further. The shattered datapad had been left on a side table in the bedroom, a subtle reminder of the existential danger her son was truly in.

With a glance over her shoulder at the stoic Stormtroopers standing watch just inside the doorway, Rey opened her mouth to broach the subject, when Riku broke the silence on his own.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in a small voice, watching his own hands moving restlessly on the table.

Rey gave him a questioning look that his downcast eyes didn't see. “Does what hurt, Riku?”

He rotated in his chair slightly, leaning forward to touch a tentative hand to the bright red gem attached to the collar around her neck. She blinked at him, perplexed. How was she even supposed to explain such a thing? He hadn't asked what it was or what it did, just if she was somehow hurt by it. Could it be that he understood its purpose?

“No,” she answered after a long pause, gently pulling his hand away and trying to catch his eyes. “It doesn't hurt. Do you know what it is, Riku?”

Riku nodded slowly, briefly meeting her eyes before looking away again. “Father told me. He said you shouldn't have the Force right now. He said...He said you could hurt someone.”

He sounded hesitant, like he was afraid she might scold him for it. Rey wanted to be furious about the half-truths Ren was feeding her son, but she found herself hung up on something else.

“Father?” Rey echoed, watching Riku's face carefully for some telling sign of objection. “Did he...tell you to call him that?”

Riku nodded again solemnly. “He said I could, if I wanted.”

Rey suppressed the frown that threatened to cloud her face. It really shouldn't surprise her, but on some level she had hoped Ren would keep his distance as the cold, implacable authority figure she assumed he'd want to continue to externalize, one that Riku wouldn't miss too badly once they were able to escape. Though, that hope had been shattered by what she'd witnessed just moments before the First Order's Supreme Leader swept from the room. Riku hadn't recoiled from the warm gesture either; he'd actually seemed...comforted by it.

But she didn't want him to have any illusions or spurious expectations of what kind of father Ren would be. As someone who had let false hope dictate her life for more than a decade, Rey wouldn't let her son fall into the same trap. “Riku...” she said softly, placing a hand on his arm that prompted him to raise his eyes. “It's true that he's your father. But he's not like the fathers you saw on the base.”

“Why not?” Riku asked, innocent confusion evident in his young gaze.

Rey considered the question, wondering how best to explain to a six year old that his father was not entirely a good man. Far from it. She didn't think Riku suffered from a lack of paternal presence when Poe and Finn had been such constants in his life, but she knew her eerily observant son had seen men on the base hugging their children close, or pecking their wives on the cheek as they walked with a child between them. Rey had seen them too, and she could admit that it had left a longing ache in her chest that had always been difficult to push away. But she had never allowed herself to dwell long on what-ifs.

Riku was still staring up at her, and she needed to give him an answer. “Well, your father doesn't always do...nice things. It's because he's...” She searched for words that he would understand. “He's a very busy, very complicated man. There won't be piggyback rides or tickle fights. He doesn't have the time.” Or likely the desire, Rey finished in her head.

“I know.” Riku agreed in a remarkably sensible tone, as if it were something he'd already been told. “Father wants me to be strong.”

Rey really did frown then, clicking her tongue in annoyance. Ren was already trying to indoctrinate him. “Strength comes in many different forms, Riku.”

“Like monsters?” her son countered guilelessly.

She stared at him, then glanced quickly over her shoulder at the guards. If they hadn't been present and likely under orders to report back anything they heard to their Supreme Leader, she might have tried to explain to Riku how accurate the comparison was. But that would likely fall under the category of undermining Ren's authority and though the matter was far from closed in her mind, it wouldn't do to give Ren another thing to reprimand her over just yet. She needed to choose her battles wisely, as long as her temper held. But she did wonder if, on some level, Riku understood the nature of his father better than she anticipated. “Yes, exactly like monsters.”

She sat back in her chair, seizing the opportunity to ask what she really wanted to know. “What else did you talk about?” Rey asked lightly. “With your father,” she added, trying hard to keep the judgment from her voice.  


Riku's little face scrunched up in a grimace of frustration, as if the response was difficult to put into words. He was such a thoughtful little boy, always so worried about being misunderstood. Rey was preparing to find a different approach to glean information when Riku seemed to come to some decision in his mind, because he turned to face her more fully and began to slowly stretch a hand up to her temple with a determined look on his face.

Rey pulled back, questioning. “What are you doing?”

His dark eyes looked up at her imploringly. “I can show you, Mama.”

“Riku...” she warned gently.

“Father says I don't have to hide my powers anymore,” he explained in a rush, a slight edge of exasperation coloring his voice. He was still her Riku, but the minor changes that she was beginning to notice in his behavior after only a handful of days apart left her a little bewildered. Impatience. Courtliness. His father's influence, no doubt.

Rey pursed her lips, regarding the small hand still outstretched toward her temple. It was true that there was nothing to fear now that she and Riku weren't on the run, but it worried her that Ren was already giving her son instruction. Still, there were things that she'd be able to see in Riku's memories that he might not entirely comprehend.

“Alright,” she said reluctantly, moving closer again.

Riku touched his fingers to her skin and she was suddenly able to see.  
  


* * *

  
_His eyes flutter open. He's on a bed, soft and yielding, very unlike the cot he slept on in the cabin._

_Directly to his right, a smooth, masculine voice asks,“How do you feel?”_

_His head turns and he sees his father, seated beside the bed with his hands steepled beneath his chin. This is the first time he has seen his father's face, but he knows him immediately. Riku has studied his own reflection in a mirror before, and what he's seen of his own face is present in his father's features too. They both have the same skin, the same dark, dark hair that is so different from the sunny brown of his mother's. It makes him glad, to have some common thing already connecting them. Well, besides the Force. Riku sits up, not very groggy at all, just suddenly aware that he's lost time._

_“I'm okay,” he responds simply to his father's question. Riku's eyes travel over the older man's dark clothing, and he thinks that it makes his father look lonely rather than frightening, though he knows he can't say it aloud. His mother would say it wasn't nice. But Finn once told him that black is the color of sadness. He wonders if his father knows that._

_His father lowers his hands from his long face and leans forward to rest his arms on his knees. “You may feel a bit disoriented for a while yet, but it will pass.”_

_Riku nods, but he doesn't know what the word 'disoriented' means. He feels alright though. “Where's Mama? Is she okay?”_

_“Yes. She's fine.”_

_“Can I see her?”_

_“Not yet. Soon though, once we arrive where we’re headed.”_

_He wants to ask why, but there’s something else that he cares about more. He chews a lip between his teeth before he asks hesitantly, “Is she...is she mad at me?”_

_“Upset. But not at you. She didn't like being found.”_

_Riku's not sure he believes his father entirely, because the look he remembers on his mother's face as she screamed his name in the forest still unsettles him. But then he notes the faint smile curling the lip of his father's stern, narrow face, as if there was some private joke in his head that he's unwilling to share. Riku could try to see it in his mind, but he's not sure if he's allowed. His mother would scold him for sure._

_It seems like his father doesn't smile often, and so he thinks that maybe he shouldn't bring it up, but Riku also doesn't want his father to think his Mama is silly. She had been so frightened for him in the forest, and it had been his fault after all. “She's scared,” he says to his father bluntly. “Of you.”_

_“She fears what she does not understand.” He likes his father's voice. It's calming and strong and gives him hope that one day his voice might sound the same. ”She worried that I might harm you.”_

_Maybe his father really does understand his Mama then. “She worries a lot.”_

_“Yes. But you're safe now. Protected. And I'll teach you how to be strong, so that one day you can protect yourself, as well as your mother.”_

_A tiny smile makes its way onto Riku's face at the thought, but something suddenly occurs to him. “Will I get to see Poe and Finn now?”_

_The faint humor has vanished from his father's face like it's been wiped off with a rag. His tone is much less friendly now. “No. They don't have a place here. “_

_Riku frowns. He's not afraid of his father's stern face for some reason. Before, he had only been a voice in Riku's head, asking him questions about himself and sometimes his Mama, but mostly he remembers the comfort he felt when his father promised that he would never feel alone again. That Riku was his son, and that he would always have a place by his side. But Riku misses Poe and Finn too._

_“But I like them,” he responds plaintively. “I like Finn the best. I asked Mama if he could live with us one day, but she always says after the war.”_

_He feels some emotion rolling off his father like smoke, and he's not exactly sure what it is. He can't always identify the emotions he feels from adults. It feels like anger, but it also feels like worry. “And your mother...did she seem...happy with this suggestion? To live with...Finn?” His voice sounds odd. Not as smooth as before._

_Riku thinks about it for a moment and shrugs. “She likes Finn. She smiles a lot when he hugs her.”_

_His father looks away, a muscle in his jaw twitching like he's clenching his teeth together in his mouth. He stands up then, stretching his tall body to an almost impossible height. Riku hopes he'll be that tall too when he grows up._

_“We'll be on this transport ship for a while, but soon we'll dock with a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer that will take us to your new home. I have duties to attend to now, but I'll be back after that.”_

_“Mama likes Star Destroyers,” he pipes up. “She used to explore them.” He's always liked listening to her talk about them, because her face lights up and then she looks like the prettiest woman in the galaxy._

_His father smiles a little, so quick that isn't there after he blinks, but he says, “Yes, I know.” He turns toward the door, and Riku suddenly feels sad that he'll be left alone...again. He's used to it, but somehow he had hoped that coming here meant he would be surrounded by people. People who weren't afraid of him. His father's hand touches a flat square by the door, and the door opens with a whooshing sound._

_“Wait...um...” He doesn't know what to call his father. He had heard some of the children on the base call theirs 'Daddy', but that almost seems silly looking at his tall, serious, grown up father who is wearing black from his neck all the way to his feet._

_“Father. You can call me father, if you like.”_

_Riku can't help the smile that breaks over his face at the words. He has a father. His father had come for him and his mother, and they were going to live together like the families he saw on the base. He nods his head eagerly. “Okay. Father. What should I do?”_

_His father's face shifts to a slight frown. “Do?”_

_“What am I supposed to do in here?” Riku glances around the small, nearly empty room. There's a door that leads into what looks like a closet with a sink, but besides the bed, a chair, and small window that looks out at the stars, the room is boring. “I used to play in the clearing when Mama was away. I don't even have any coal colors to use.”_

_The frown on his father's face deepens. “Coal colors?”_

_“Yeah. Poe got them for me when he went to Corellia. You can draw with them and I make pictures for Mama sometimes. But they're all at the cabin.” He looks down for a second, a realization occurring to him. “She'll be sad that we left them.”_

_Riku doesn't hear his father leaving, but he doesn't seem to be doing anything either. He looks up, and is surprised to see his father watching him with a strange expression. It's a moment before he speaks, but he moves away from the doorway and approaches one of the walls by the bed. His large hand pushes against it, and a covering pops open, revealing a set of shelves with various items tucked away inside. One of those items Riku recognizes as a datapad, which his father pulls out and turns on. Riku has used a datapad before at the base, and though he wasn't allowed to play with it often, his Mama had shown him how to open the star maps and look at colorless outlines of ships that she called 'blueprints'._

_His father taps the screen of the datapad a few times, before he turns his head suddenly to look at Riku._

_“Can you read?”_

_He nods in response. He can't read the big words, but Mama had taught him a lot. His father taps the datapad a few more times before he turns to hand it to Riku. “I'll see what I can do about these...'coal colors', but in the meantime, you can read that. It was one of my favorite stories as a boy.”_

_Riku looks down at the title of the holobook displayed on the datapad. He doesn't want to embarrass himself, so he reads it aloud slowly. “The...L-Lonely...Prince.”_

_His father looks as if he approves, taking a few steps back toward the door. “Yes. He doesn't end up so lonely, though. He finds friendship, and belonging, and everyone recognizes his bravery by the end. I think you'll like it.”_

_Riku clutches the datapad to his chest, feeling himself smile again. It's the first thing he's ever received from this tall, powerful man who is suddenly in his life now. “Thank you,” he says, truly grateful, then adds quickly, “Father.”_

_“You're welcome,” his father responds after a long moment, and then steps out the door and closes it behind him._

_Riku looks down, taps the screen of the datapad, and begins to read the first page._  
  


* * *

  
  
It had taken less than a minute to view the scene in Riku's mind, though it had felt like real time passing. She’d been right; Rey was much more adept at picking up on the subtle nuances of the conversation that her son missed due to his lack of experience with such things. The exchange had seemed so innocent to him, almost normal, that he had no understanding at all of the meaning behind Ren's words and actions.

But she knew. It was why her mouth was currently gaping open in shock, and why she wasn't able to devote as much contemplative energy as she should to Riku's staggering skill at manipulating the Force. Ren cared for her son. He didn’t want to just turn Riku into an asset, a weapon for his terrible empire. He actually cared for him. Wanted to comfort him in his own stoic way, even offering to find coal colors for him to use to make him more comfortable.

Witnessing Ren in such an unguarded moment, with that curiously soft look in his eyes as he regarded Riku, wasn’t something she’d been ready for. Riku was almost preternaturally good at reading people—and if his father had harbored some deceitful intention, he would have sensed the warning through the Force, attuned to him as he was. Rey still didn’t fully trust that Ren wouldn’t corrupt her son by the very nature of his Dark power, but...he had spoken truthfully when he’d said that he didn't want to harm her son.

Riku was still staring at her expectantly, likely wondering if she approved of what she’d seen, so she leaned in to wrap an arm around him, hugging him tightly to her side. It felt good to be able to do that again; there had been a moment, when Ren was chasing him down in the forest, that she had been terrified that she’d never have the chance to do so again. 

“Thank you for showing me,” she told him quietly, brushing the dark locks of hair from his face and leaning down press an affectionate kiss to his pale forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Mama,” he responded in that strange, formal tone that he’d recently adopted, and she sighed. She knew there were more memories, snippets of conversation between he and Ren that spanned the time she’d been locked away on another part of the ship, but she didn't think she could handle that just yet. At the moment, she wasn't sure how to handle any of it.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as mentioned above, I wrote a bad thing. A very dark, very bad, somewhat non-con thing called Song of Darkness. Check it out in my profile if you dare, but also *please* read the tags before you embark, as I suspect it may turn some people off. Or on. ;) Also, you guys really need to tone down your level of amazing, because this fic has somehow surpassed 600 kudos & 11K hits & so many delightful comments that I really don't know what to do with you guys. Maybe deliver more smut??


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to push the smut off until the next chapter because it needed more editing than I had time and this thing would have had a monstrous word count. I really wanted to get you guys something for the holidays (smut) but it will unfortunately have to wait a bit. But it's next on the agenda. ^_^

_“Here?”_

_“This is where he likes to meet, mesh'la.”_

_She sets her jaw, following cautiously behind the woman as they weave between tables full of patrons. The tavern isn't crowded, but almost every table is occupied, a colorful motley of traders, laborers, and inscrutable characters all hunched over stone tankards and contributing to the low din of murmured conversation. Rey has seen her fair share of seedy taverns since her days with the Resistance, though none compared to the liveliness of Maz's cantina on Takodana. This tavern, half in shadow from the sparse orange light of lumen globes sunk into the walls, doesn't worry her at all but she can't say the same for the enigmatic woman leading her further away from the main room's droning activity._

_Something about her gives Rey pause. It isn't just that the woman's emotions are hard to read, it's the way she seems to hang on Rey's every word. Odd conduct for someone who is just the liaison of a freight-shipping outfit looking for reliable pilots. The woman is unusually attractive as well; flawless skin, curvy hips, and coquettish in manner, she's a walking warning sign in Rey's eyes but Rey truly needs the credits this opportunity would bring. Piloting and salvaging are really her only marketable skills and with her funds all but depleted, she can't afford to let this chance slide by without at least evaluating it properly._

_Earlier, she'd overheard the woman approach two men in the docking station, sidling up to them with a seductive sway of hips in hopes of enticing them to consider her offer. Apparently the company she represented overshadowed the men's obvious interest in her assets, because as soon as she'd revealed it they'd snorted dismissively and turned away with a snobbish air of superiority. The credit amount the woman quoted, however, had drawn Rey's undivided attention. It was a significantly long contract, but it would yield enough currency to upgrade her junker of a ship to something a little less crude._

_“Such a pretty girl,” the woman, Bazine, had said to her with an alarmingly reptilian smile after she'd run through a gamut of questions about Rey's piloting experience. “I wouldn't expect a face like yours to be wasted on freighting.”_

_Rey had frowned at her; she knew her face wasn't unpleasant, but she was also no beauty like the woman standing before her. She hadn't known how to respond so she said nothing, and Bazine's darkly painted lips had curled up in a winsome smile. Something didn't feel right about the way the woman regarded her, but she hadn't been interrogated further. Bazine had simply crooked her fingers and said, “Well, come on then, mesh'la. I think you should meet the boss.”_

_On the way, Bazine had airily discussed the owner of the freight company, a Zygerrian who was known to the locals as Scroon, as she flirted her way to the front of the airbus line with Rey in tow. The crush of commuters had been somewhat overwhelming for Rey, and she was pushed several times into unsuspecting passengers clinging to the overhead handholds, once even into a grinning Bazine who helped her straighten with an overly-familiar brush of hands._

_Rey had been glad to finally fight her way out of the mass of undulating bodies and onto the loading platform, gulping in fresh, breathable air as her temporary companion looked on, bemused. It had been the hour of vibrant sunset when they'd begun to traverse the pedestrian-riddled streets toward their destination, but the remains of the gloaming light had long since faded with the planet's red sun. Now, Rey follows behind Bazine's prowling gait to the back of the tavern as she glimpses the ominous dark just outside the rough-shod establishment's windows, a tremor of foreboding chasing her steps as they move further away from the chatter of people._

_They arrive shortly at a dark curtain partitioning a portion of the tavern off from the rest of the room. Bazine smirks at Rey over her shoulder as she pulls back the curtain, gesturing with an exaggerated flourish for Rey to proceed ahead of her. This feels wrong, in every way, and Rey suddenly has the urge to call off the whole thing. She can find other sources of credits if she hangs around the dock long enough, though nothing as lucrative as what this job would potentially pay. Surely some reputable, faceless corporation would be looking for journeyman pilots, or perhaps a novice mechanic who may not be up-to-date on the latest cutting-edge propulsion systems but willing to prove her worth with a hydrospanner. The risk of deception beyond the curtain is more than real given the feelings she's experiencing, and it would probably be in her best interest to avoid it all together._

_But Bazine's assessing smile endures through her hesitation, a subtle, mocking challenge to the caliber of her nerve, and she feels that spark of prideful anger that is almost becoming reflexive now. For all of the woman's incalculable mysteriousness, it's unlikely that she'd be able to best Rey in a fight without the Force. If she was planning a con, Rey knows how to defend herself against enterprising smooth-talkers. She'd had sufficient practice on Jakku navigating Unkar Plutt's shifty dealings, and Rey had been victimized enough times by the old blobfish to know that half of the game was standing up to him._

_There is hardly a singular being in the whole galaxy that could successfully best a Force-user in close quarters, she surmises. Rey recalls the fearful faces of the gutter trash on Asmeru, frozen in the rain under her power as terror wafted from them like a heady perfume. She needn't have taken it as far as she had, but it was satisfying to know that she could hold her own against so many at once. For a moment there, she had felt nigh invincible. This meeting with a prospective new employer is nothing that a Force-user such as herself should fear. Rey draws in a fortifying breath, bypassing the toothy grin that Bazine throws her way, and moves through the parted curtain._

_The man seated at the table is indeed Zygerrian, and he looks up from stroking the stubbed spurs of bone protruding from his chin when she approaches. Rey is momentarily mesmerized by the sharp clarity of his lupine eyes set in an elongated face, but his immediate smile reminds her uncomfortably of Bazine's.._

_“Ah,” Scroon says warmly, as if he's been awaiting her arrival for cycles. “You must be the pilot. Welcome. Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to the stool closest to her side of the table._

_Rey glances back at the woman poised by the curtain, inconspicuously blocking the path back into the main room with a provocative curve of hip. Turning back, carefully impassive, she notes a door just to the left of Scroon's shoulder and a foggy window beside it revealing the murk of the night beyond. It looks to be a viable exit should she need it, but the bag at her hip carries a more substantial source of confidence: her lightsaber. She lowers herself onto the stool, resting her hands in her lap and within easy reach of her best mode of defense._

_“Yes, this is 'Talia'.” the woman pipes up before she can speak, and Rey detects a slight edge of masked humor that sets her teeth on edge. “She's from...Orinda, was it?”_

_Rey hesitates only a fraction of a second before she responds, “That's right.”_

_“Orinda,” she hears Bazine muse conversationally behind her, dragging the words a bit. ”Lovely place. I haven't been in a while.”_

_Unease blooms at the woman's words. Rey has heard of traders traveling to Orinda to make their fortunes, but she doesn't know much about the planet besides what she's caught from passing gossip. She hadn't really thought up much of a back story in the first place, as her decision to explore this piloting opportunity had been entirely on a whim. She can't very well go by Rey of Jakku and remain under the radar, but Bazine speaks as if she knows something about Orinda that Rey does not. Though Rey is well-equipped for resisting deception, she's unsure of how competently she can levy her own._

_“And you want to be a freighter pilot?” Scroon asks indulgently, drawing her attention back to him._

_She holds herself stiffly, trying not to let the penetrative sharpness of his gaze unnerve her. “Yes, I was told the payments would include fueling costs?”_

_Scroon gives her a slow smile. “It won't be a problem. I'm an entrepreneur, after all, my dear. The rising cost of fuel is but one of many pressing burdens men such as myself must shoulder, since the First Order decided to make war with the Resistance. It's been taxing on us all, this war, and some of my competitors have made the mistake of playing both sides for profit.” The Zygerrian lifts a small, crystal snifter of some dark liquid to his full lips, taking a deep pull as he keeps his unsettling eyes trained on Rey. “When the First Order caught on, they suffered for it.”_

_She watches with a wary eye as Scroon casually sets the snifter back on the table. The unanticipated segue is troubling. Rey has been very careful, since her days doing shuttle runs for the Resistance, to avoid any talk with locals about the war that might reveal her political leanings. There were spies everywhere, and now more than ever her trust in the average stranger is nominal._

_She is also picking up some vague feeling of anticipation from Scroon, as if he's keeping some tantalizing piece of knowledge captive, fingering it anxiously as he waits for her attention to wane. Her face remains expressionless, benign, as her hand moves beneath the flap of her bag to slowly feel for the hilt of her lightsaber. Her ears strain for any sounds of movement from the woman behind her. Though the Force frequently serves as an early detection system, the confusing muddle of Bazine's emotions test Rey's faith in her own instincts and she can't shake the feeling that the woman is concealing some dangerous edge._

_“I've always felt it best to pick a side and be done with it,” Scroon continues from across the table, the corner of his mouth lifting into an elegant, secret smirk. ”The First Order has won this galaxy, and that means we all need to fall in line when it's required of us. Even me.”_

_“Yes,” is all Rey can say warily in response. Scroon's smile widens, and his gaze strays over her shoulder, presumably to Bazine behind her._

_“Good work, Bazine,” he says with a strangely calculative look in his eyes. “I'm sure our employer will be very pleased.”_

_The warning is all but roaring inside her now and Rey narrows her eyes at the Zygerrian in suspicion. “Employer? I thought you were the owner of this company.”_

_Scroon's decidedly crafty smile persists, but it's Bazine who speaks, and not to her. “Well, we'll see for ourselves how grateful he is, won't we? He's just arrived.”_

_Rey pivots quickly on the stool to look back at the woman by the curtain, alarm cresting in her. But the woman doesn't meet her eyes; instead, Bazine is staring intently past her, slightly to the left of where Scroon would be. Rey whips her head back to the man, her accusation on the very tip of her tongue, but a dark silhouette in the window beside him catches her immediate notice._

_The figure on the other side is tall, so tall the very pinnacle of its height is cut off by the uppermost boundary of the window pane. The gentle sloping darkness sweeping down from the place where a head should reside suggests that whoever or whatever just outside the window is wearing some kind of hooded cloak as covering. It's hard to tell anything about the figure at all, besides that it appears to be more inky than the backdrop of night behind it._

_Something inside her is ramping like a whispering scream. Her hand begins rummaging frantically within her bag, suddenly desperate to bolster her confidence with a tangible affirmation, but her fingers only brush against her packet of rations and the small hydropak she's habitually taken to bringing everywhere. She digs deeper, and her nails scrape the bottom of the leather bag fruitlessly. Loathe as she is to take her eyes off that sinister figure in the window, her eyes drop to her lap as she rips open the bag, confirming what she already knows. It isn't there. Her lightsaber, the last reminder of her lost potential as an almost-heroine, is no longer in her possession. She is unarmed._

_Rey raises accusing eyes to Scroon, but the Zygerrian rises from his place at the table, moving fluidly from behind it to face the door just as it opens. The balmy breeze of the evening sweeps into the room, but Rey can't smell the scents of fragrant night on the air because she stops breathing entirely when Kylo Ren strides through the door, the quiet thud of his heavy boots echoing through her as he crosses the threshold._

_“No...” Rey utters disbelievingly, and jumps up from her stool so fast that she upends it._

_His wraith-like cowl and midnight-dark clothing have always made him look every bit the Dark Force user, but it's the blank, inhuman cast of his mask that has haunted her thoughts since that fateful day on Takodana. Like the true visage of Darkness peering into her soul, daring her to imagine what lies beneath. And she has seen it, the face that hides behind that mask, with eyes that burn and lips that shape the most sinful words, spreading wisps of shadow across her heart with triumphant pleasure._

_She staggers back a few paces, the room suddenly feeling small and cramped like the airbus she squeezed herself onto at the dock. He was here. Not a Dark specter in her mind, but really, physically here, silent and watchful and dangerously close. Motionless, as he regards her for an inordinate amount of time. Her lungs scream for air and she inhales with a shuddering breath, unintentionally breaking the spell as Ren reaches behind him to close the door._

_His voice through the modulator is nearly a purr, hushed in a way that distinctly reminds her of their encounter on Moraband, when he'd told her not to fear her passion. “I'm here to talk, Rey, not fight.” It's unbearably intimate and now rather than ceasing to breathe, her breathing picks up raggedly, an entirely involuntary response to the memories crashing down on her and the adrenaline rushing through her veins._

_It must show on her face, the panic, because she's on the verge of fleeing and using the Force to skid the heavy table sideways into his path when Ren begins to lift a hand in her direction. But his power isn't what makes her freeze in her tracks._

_No, it's the cold, laser-fine edge of a dagger pressing across the length of her throat from behind that halts her retreat. A hand slithers around her waist, gently pulling her back against an unmistakably feminine form. Bazine. Rey hadn't heard her, hadn't sensed her, too preoccupied with the potential nightmare before her to remember the danger of the woman behind her._

_“Not so fast,” Bazine drawls into her ear, lengthening the words in a softly sibilant lilt. “If I were you, I'd hear out what he has to say. Because, mesh'la, if you make it past me, you're in for a real, unexpected treat.” The woman presses in close, sliding her cheek along Rey's, a subtly feline rub of skin against skin that shocks Rey into stillness._

_Rey's eyes dart up to see Ren slowly lowering his hand. He isn't stepping in, she realizes, giving Bazine the chance to gleefully divulge her threat. “You see, a quarter of the men in that room out there are mercenaries, just like me, hired by our gracious host here who's come all this way just to speak with you. We've all been paid handsomely to stop you from leaving by any means necessary, but in case that doesn't prove useful, then maybe the Stormtroopers surrounding the building might change your mind? Our host is very thorough, and he's **very** eager to speak with you uninterrupted. So, as I said, mesh'la, not so fast.” The hand at her waist gives a caressing squeeze._

_“Unhand me,” Rey breathes out with false confidence, ruined by the shaky quality of her voice._

_“That depends,” the woman responds. “Are you willing to play nice?”_

_Rey clenches her teeth, her lingering panic quickly transforming to anger. The only thing keeping the woman behind her safe from Rey's wrath is the imposing visage of the man swathed in black, watching the exchange with no discernible clues into his current disposition._

_“I suppose you've left me no choice,” Rey bites out carefully to avoid the edge of the blade, “if the odds are as you say.” She hears a low, satisfied chuckle, and though it's not immediate, the dagger eventually slides away from her neck as the oily presence of the woman recedes. Rey straightens, leveling a glare at Ren and waiting for him to dictate whatever nefarious orders he planned to relay._

_He doesn't disappoint. “Clear the room.” Ren's tone is clipped, colder than it was when he arrived and Rey doesn't turn away to watch Scroon and Bazine leave; his presence commands all of her attention._

_Ren moves to stand behind the table, then lowers his towering, broad-shouldered form into Scroon's previously occupied seat. “Sit.”_

_Every instinct she has says to resist his imperious demands, but she knows that she's out-maneuvered here. Rey could still shove the table at him, plunge through the curtain and toward the exit before anyone in the other room had the chance to stand, use the Force to fling them backwards as she burst through the door and into the cover of night. She could freeze the predictable blaster fire sure to chase after her in the air, likely only warning shots meant to herd, not harm. But what then? Even if she made it to the docks without Ren dogging her heels, Bazine was right—he was incredibly thorough. The docks would already be on lockdown, restricting any unauthorized spacecraft from leaving the area under a hastily-given First Order decree. Even if the First Order presence here was minimal, no one was stupid enough to stand in their way when more than half of the known galaxy was under their thumb._

_With visible reluctance, Rey stoops to pick up the stool and set it back to rights, staring a defiant hole into the battered tabletop as she follows his orders and sits. Bazine's interference and the infuriating way he's hemmed her into this trap has dulled the underlying fear, and now irritation comes hurtling to the fore. Surliness. Anger. Resentment. Her fingers itch to wrap around the hilt of her lightsaber, to show Ren just how much she desires to talk at the present moment. How much she craves to let the sizzling blade of her saber punctuate the finer points of her resistance._

_“You've left Skywalker.” The modulated words are measured, deliberate, but surprising enough that Rey lifts her gaze to look at him despite her aversion. The silence stretches between them, as her eyes stray from the chrome embellishments that limn the eye slit of his mask to the eerie smoothness of his augmented faceplate. She feels the subtle probing of his mind, and she exhales in an attempt to remain calm. She has learned greater discipline since she found herself at his mercy on Moraband. Unless she allows him an opening as she did on Asmeru, he would not get far this time._

_It's clear that he's awaiting her response, so she answers him flippantly. “And why would you think that?”_

_Ren settles back, resting his forearms on the table. “I know my uncle. His training relies on a certain consistency and rote. You've been away too long.” The last is said with a knowing inflection and she doesn't say anything back, because she can't begin to guess how he would know such a thing. To confirm or deny it seems incriminating in itself._

_“I wonder, are you still with the Resistance as well?” She focuses on keeping her breathing even as he tilts his head curiously. “I've been tracking you since Asmeru, and your movements seem...erratic. Desperate, even. You've changed ships three times.”_

_“You're mad if you think I would discuss anything with you.” Rey is proud of the steel in her voice, even if she is spiraling in panic again on the inside. How? How could he know any of these things, and how had he found her so easily?_

_“You would refuse a benevolent hand, when Skywalker and your beloved Resistance have so obviously abandoned you? Look at what they've allowed to happen. Here you are, scrapping and begging such deplorable characters for work, just to secure your next meal. Do you really long to be just a scavenger once more?” He says the words with such conviction that she thinks he probably means them. Had he ever, truly, been forced to work in order to live, or felt the burdensome weight of survival like the rest of the galaxy?_

_“Benevolent?” Rey remarks, purposefully ignoring the rest. “That's new.” She looks away again._

_“Unless...” The modulator adds a haunting note to the word lingering in the air. She was almost positive that he couldn't see into her mind, yet he still seemed to be trying to read her._

_“Unless you **chose** to leave them on your own. Unless you did something unforgivable. You're running from them, aren't you?” he concludes, more sure of himself. “What did you do?”_

_“Kriff off.”_

_Ren barks a laugh that comes out garbled through his mask, and then his fingers are fitting into the catches beneath his mask to pull it off._

_She doesn't want to see his face. She doesn't want to be reminded of the man it shields from view. So, she tries to shame him, albeit poorly. “You might as well keep it on, Ren,” she says, just as the tips of his ebon locks become visible. He pauses. “It matches the monster you are on the inside.”_

_She should have known it wouldn't work, and furthermore, what it revealed about her thoughts on his true face. The mask is removed anyway and set on the table beside him, staring back at her like a disembodied head. She prolongs her evasion of his uncovered face for as long as she can, though she startles some when he speaks in that sinfully-smooth voice of his._

_“You forget, Rey, that I've seen your mind, and have been privy to some of your darkest thoughts. You're worried, deep down, that you may be just as much of a monster as I am.”_

_She grits her teeth, internally kicking herself for giving him the opening. “How did you find me?”_

_He doesn't miss a beat. “The skyline on Asmeru. I recognized it, when we were connected. After that, it was just a matter of mobilizing surveillance teams to watch for a lone girl who appeared to be drifting, aimless.”_

_She won't take his bait. “Wonderful. So, that's it then? You drag me off, kicking and screaming to whatever end you've planned for me?”_

_“If I wanted to end you, I would have done it on Starkiller. Or Karideph. I told you, I just want to talk, to make you understand what it is that I offer.”_

_“Really,” she contends, her eyes snapping back to his, flashing with all the ire of a woman who'd fought against odds worse than a spoiled rotten prince could ever imagine, “because it looks like you're here to take me against my will.”_

_His eyes are black in the low light, and they glitter and pierce like lava glass as she meets them. But his face...his face is as arresting as it had been on Moraband, narrow but elegant in a spare sort of way, marred only by the damning proof of her rage from their duel on Starkiller. A scar that is still sculpted beautifully against the paleness of his face, a reminder of her vengeance against him._

_“Yes, Rey. Rage is valid. Rage is **human**. I deserved it. I deserved it, and more, and you delivered it.”_

_She gasps softly, blinking as she quickly shutters her mind to him again. This is was the danger of his uncovered face. In her grudging appreciation for the comeliness of his features, her defenses were slipping._

_“I wasn't lying to you, Rey. I want to train you.” He leans his weight forward, not much closer but somehow that much more intense as he pins her with a fervent look. “I want to show you the Force, the way it was meant to be. I want to show you how to harness all of that rage and sadness and longing inside you and shape it into something beautiful, formidable, with no boundaries, no limits.”_

_She wants to tear her eyes away again, more than anything, to dismiss the coaxing words and reject his assertions that those pathetic feelings exist within her at all. But he knows. He's felt them, heard the recriminating doubts inside her head and silently witnessed her frustrations. In his attempt to persuade her, he's also unerringly pinpointed the source of her unhappiness under Luke's tutelage._

_She is loathe to admit it, but she does wants power. She didn't know it until she'd had the drugging taste of it on Starkiller, but she wants to be more than just a scavenger digging in the sand, or a castoff whose parents never bothered to care that their abandoned child saw her death in the sand each night when she closed her eyes. She wants to feel worthy, significant, and for a short time she thought training under Luke Skywalker would give that to her. The Resistance had seemed romantic and daring when she'd been daydreaming in-between grueling scavenges, but it had been different once she'd lived among them. The only people who didn't look at her like she was a pyro denton explosive just waiting to be set off were Finn, Poe, and General Organa. And now she wasn't sure if they weren't right to fear her after what happened on Ahch-To._

_She'd wanted to belong. She'd wanted purpose, and Luke's way, the **right** way, meant that she needed to excise emotions like the ones Ren described from her mind, from her heart; but it also meant that she was forbidden to feel others. Even the Jedi code itself, the polar opposite of the Sith code Ren had once recited, denied her gratification._ There is no emotion, only peace...there is no passion, only serenity. _If she had continued on the path Luke set for her, she would have doomed herself to a passionless existence for the rest of her life. Rey, a starving, planet-bound scavenger who'd had so little cause to smile before Finn found her, had the whole galaxy and beyond now to explore, to experience, and Luke and the Resistance had wanted her to throw it all away in order to be their weapon against the First Order._

_“Rey,” Ren entreats, breaking her from her shadowed thoughts, “let me train you, guide you. I can show you so much, if you would just open yourself up to me.” His voice has taken on that wistful edge again, his words a tantalizing promise. The suggestive connotations buried in them distress her as well, summoning a creeping flush that warms her all the way up to her ears. The way he'd touched her on Moraband and the phantom whispers of feeling she'd felt after, imply that he wanted more from her than just apprenticeship. Swallowing, Rey decides to test the theory._

_“You just want me to call you Master.”_

_“Yes,” and his gaze is suddenly smoldering, the words a soft, yearning whisper. “I want that very much.”_

_Her eyes widen in response, and she feels her pulse throbbing in her neck, the sound of it rushing softly in her ears. He wasn't even trying to pretend that his motivations weren't fueled by selfishness then. He wanted...he was suggesting..._

_No, she would not allow herself to be caught by his lure. He was testing her for a reaction, looking for an opening. It was always like this with him—the caresses, the whispers in the darkest parts of her mind, the burn of his eyes pulling her in as he lowers his mouth for a kiss..._

_She blinks absently for a second time, mentally shaking herself. He hadn't kissed her, because she hadn't allowed it. She had found the strength inside herself to resist him._

_“I don't want to kill people, Ren. I'm not a murderer.”_

_“But you wanted to kill me when I captured you on Takodana,” he points out. It wasn't a question, just a curious musing._

_“You were trying to kill me and my friends,” Rey counters incredulously, a deep frown settling between her eyebrows._

_“Friends,” Ren huffs out, like it's a curse. “And where are these 'friends' now?”_

_Her lips press together, unwilling to respond. She's tried hard to distract herself only with thoughts of her next move, rather than what her impulsive decision had cost her when it came to her only real friends in the galaxy._

_Ren sighs. “Rey, I'm not asking you to become a soldier for the First Order. I'm not asking you to swear fealty to them and their ideas. I simply want to help you explore your own power, your own potential. With me, you aren't required to be a savior or a villain, just yourself. And it will be your hand that holds the weapon, and your decision should you choose to use it for more than just defense.”_

_She stares at him, because this is not at all what she was expecting. “You mean to tell me,” she deadpans, “that your Supreme Leader would just let me train with you, without trying to force me into murdering people?”_

_He watches her for a moment, then leans in closer. “I told you before, Snoke is a means to an end. He may pull the strings, but that will not always be.”_

_Is he really saying what she thought he was? From what she gathered from General Organa, Ren had been under Snoke's thumb for more than a decade, committing atrocities for the ideas of the First Order the moment he swore fealty. What has changed so much since that fateful day on the bridge with Han, when he'd been so willing to give himself over to the Dark and remove the last ties he had to his humanity?_

_“But then why did you...” she trails off, not knowing how to even ask the question without setting off his notorious temper. Why is she even looking for an explanation?_

_“Things change” Ren says with a brusque finality that tells her that part of the matter is closed indefinitely. His eyes had dulled some with the declaration, but he quickly recovers and drills his gaze into her own. “What matters now, is that you're not alone anymore. You don't have to cower under Skywalker's judgments. I know what training with my uncle is like, better than anyone. The subtle condescension, the well-meaning jabs to your confidence. He's spent a lifetime being the heralded savior, he doesn't understand what it means to be everyone else.”_

_“Why?” she asks at last, the one question that has been plaguing her since Starkiller. It would have been so much easier to wound Luke Skywalker by just killing her. “Why go through all of this trouble to...teach me?”_

_She's unsure of the expression that crosses his face then. It appears both soft and overwhelmingly intense all at once. His dark gaze is fixed on her, unblinking. “Because I've never seen anything like you before.” Her breath catches, because his words always serve to confuse her, unbalance her, but then he clarifies after a moment. “The untapped potential inside you is greater than what even Snoke truly knows.”_

_So, that was it then. It was ultimately about adding her power to the Dark side, not...Rey clenches her jaw. “If I said I needed time to consider the offer, would you give it to me?”_

_“I'd rather use that time to persuade you. So, no.” Ren reaches over and clasps his helmet between his gloved hands, fitting it over his head and locking it into place in a smoothly-practiced motion. The mask is disconcerting after regarding his uncovered face for so long, and that surprises her considering how much she had objected to seeing it in the first place._

_He stands and rounds the long end of the table so that he's looming over her seated on the squat little stool, and she stares in disbelief at the hand he holds out to her in offering. She looks from it to the impenetrable dark of his eye slit, and gives a curt shake of her head before she stands on her own. This isn't willing, and she won't pretend it is anything else but what it is._

_Ren pulls back the curtain for her and she passes through it, spying Bazine and Scroon conversing quietly at a nearby wall. Ren stalks over to them, while Rey stands back and surveys the rest of the room. Some of the patrons have their back turned, obviously engaged in their disparate conversations, but there are also whole tables-full of men and a few women with heads turned over their shoulders, gazes trained on her. Bazine hadn't been lying to her. There was no reason they should be paying attention to her, unless they had been paid to._

_A gasp sounds to her right, and her eyes cut back over to the small huddle of her betrayers standing against the wall. Only, Bazine's face is now grimacing in pain as she clutches at her head, crumpling in on herself in pain as Ren stands over her with a hand outstretched as if he's ripping through her mind with the Force. Rey realizes that's exactly what he's doing, and the woman cries out in anguish a moment later before she falls against the wall, the shine of tears tracks on her cheeks evident even in the dim lighting. Ren remains in his intimidating stance for a few seconds longer, before he turns away and approaches Rey. Her lightsaber is gripped in  one of his fists, and she gazes longingly at it before she tears her eyes away._

_“Let's go,” Ren says curtly in that deeply modulated voice, and gestures impatiently at the door._

_She glances back at Bazine, whose face is staring blankly at the ground as she wipes the wetness from her eyes. Scroon is decidedly hands off and doesn't seem to be willing to even help her up from her crouch on the ground, much less look at her._

_“Why did you do that?” she asks, without taking her eyes off of Bazine struggling to stand on her own power._

_“She took liberties with something that didn't belong to her.”_

_Rey glances back sharply to Ren, but he's already begun marching towards the door. She has no choice but to follow, picking up on the wary vibe of watchful mercenaries tracking her every move as she heads for the tavern door behind him. None of this is by choice, she tells herself emphatically, not even her worrying and destructive fascination with Ren._

  


* * *

  


The grooming droid had done an excellent job. The thought ran idly through her mind as her eyes tried to reconcile the image in front of her, sweeping over the stranger reflected back in the vanity mirror. Gone was the survivor, the scavenger honed by sand and hardship, the woman who had gathered up her few belongings and ventured into the unknown with a child clinging tightly to her hand. The vision who met her gaze now was an alluring trophy, as mysterious and elusive as a wisp of smoke.

Dark kohl smudged her lash line and turned the hazel hue of her eyes into something luminous and exotic. Her sun-freckled skin shimmered under a dusting of fine powder that reminded her of stardust, and a warm shadow had been applied to the hollows of her cheeks, resulting in a strange illusion of sculpted cheekbones. The droid had also painted her mouth a pale, shiny pink, a choice she had nearly scoffed at because pink had always struck her as such a frivolous, unserviceable color. She had changed her mind once she saw the finished product in the mirror; the color appeared understated in comparison to everything else that had been done to her.

Her gown was, of course, ridiculous, but this had been the outfit the droid had been supplied. The droid had shown up two hours ago, towing a mannequin dressed in her current evening wear and several cases full of so many paints, powders, and liquid concoctions that Rey had nearly turned it away in trepidation. But she had been primly informed upon its arrival that the Supreme Leader would be showing up for dinner and it had come to help her prepare. Her protest was on the very tip of her tongue—why attempt such artifice when she had clearly been brought here for one purpose—but then she thought of what such a blatant refusal to play by Ren's rules would cost her.

This had been the first day that she'd been allowed to see Riku, and Rey had cherished every minute of it. Her son had slowly thawed from the distressed, hesitant boy that gazed fearfully at her from the threshold of her quarters, and eventually returned to the sweet, precocious child who was as generous with his hugs as he was with his quiet smiles.

Once the strangeness of the earlier moments had passed, she had shown him around her quarters, sharing in the minor enthusiasm of discovering the rest of the amenities hidden within. The only place Rey had avoided was the room she had surreptitiously dubbed the “star chamber”. She wasn't sure that she could enter the room without thinking about what had transpired inside it, and it was the last place she wanted to linger at the moment while she spent time with her son.

She had asked Riku what he'd done to keep himself busy since that perplexing scene she'd witnessed in his head, and Rey had expected more holobooks maybe, or possibly a set of his favored coal colors to pass the time. And as it turned out, he did have access to those things; Ren had made good on his promise in short order. They had been waiting for Riku in his room when they'd docked aboard the _Finalizer_ , along with a plethora of other curious items.

Her son recounted with exuberance all of the wonderful things he'd found when his father showed him to his room for the first time: puzzle games, toy ship models, something his father had called an “educational toy” with an interactive hologram AI, a set of tiny interlocking gears and pins for building miniature structures and moving contraptions, a strangely complex board game that Ren had promised to teach Riku when he had the time...the list went on, and Rey had been frowning by the time Riku detailed all of his new belongings.

It was almost as if Ren was trying to make up for all of the years that Riku spent living without. It was more than any average child would know what to do with, but she supposed that was the privilege the Supreme Leader's son could enjoy. In many ways, it made her heart soar to see Riku's eyes light up with such happiness. They'd lived such sparing lives and she had always imagined what it would be like to provide him with anything his little heart desired. He had never begged after the toys and trinkets they saw as they passed through bazaars or marketplaces, but she had caught the longing look in his eyes on more than one occasion. She knew that look intimately, and it pained Rey to see it in his dark gaze. Rey had always wanted to give him what she never had growing up as a starving child, but lacking anything of true worth to give, she settled on providing him her unconditional love.

The other part of her, the fiercely protective mother in her, was exceedingly worried that Ren was carving such a significant place in Riku's heart. His kindnesses, not just the physical gifts, but the gruff, oddly endearing way he interacted with her son, was making it difficult for Riku to see him as the villain in this arrangement. From Riku's perspective, his father hadn't manipulated him, chased he and his mother down and forcibly captured them in order to imprison them on a war ship; no, to him, Ren was simply bringing their little family together. It was also painfully clear from the way her son spoke about Ren that he was suffering from an acute case of hero worship.

Rey stood from the vanity, elongating her profile in the mirror to eye the scandalously low back of the lacework clinging to her body like a second skin. While it had dressed her—which came after an embarrassing and illuminating bathing session that involved far too many creams and gels—the droid had engaged in what Rey could only assume was polite conversation for the upper crust. She tuned most of it out, humming in assent whenever there was an expectant pause in the steady flow of words.

Eventually, the droid moved onto her hair, which she was somewhat disturbed to note felt softer and silkier than she had ever known hair could be. She resolutely ignored the stray thought that her mind supplied about the luxurious bounce and sheen of Ren's hair as it ran through her fingertips. She supposed that if she had all of the resources of the galaxy at her disposal, finding amazing hair products would be a minor convenience in the grand scheme of things.

She hadn't paid it much mind in the face of their reunion, but as they sat together on the chaise, Riku tucked under her arm as he read aloud from one of the thousands of holobooks loaded on the newly-delivered datapad, she'd taken note of his new, finely-made clothing and the freshly-trimmed locks of hair framing his face. Again, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry at Ren for making sure Riku was provided for, though it saddened her to think that the moment she and Riku made it off this ship, his privileged lifestyle would change drastically.

If they ever made it off. It had only been a day so far, but Rey was beginning to worry that her plea to her former Master had gone unheard. She'd received no response, nor any indication that her gamble had worked. She had known though that if her best shot at reaching Skywalker failed, then her only other option was time. Time for Ren to get comfortable with their routine. Time for Rey to learn more about the collar around her neck. Time to understand the inner-workings of the _Finalizer_ under Ren's new regime.

It was the long game that she would need to play, a subtle deception and lure into complacency, and in that time her son's soul was in dire risk. She hoped with her entire being that Luke had heard her, that he had gotten word back to General Organa, Finn, and Poe. Because the longer they stayed on this ship, the more she and Riku would lose themselves to Ren's influence.

A few hours after lunch had been served, a platter groaning with various fruits, spicy chilled meats, and rich cheeses so delectable that Rey's food hoarding tendencies were nearly triggered again, Riku's escort arrived. She ignored the prick of tears that threatened her composure when Riku clutched his arms around her neck in a farewell hug. She knew it was irrational, especially since she'd been promised every day with him, but Rey couldn't help but feel like he was being spirited away against her will. Rey had spent the majority of Riku's six years curled around his little body at night as he slept, protecting it from cold and nightmares and the judgments of others. She had to wonder if he missed her warmth too, if his room full of lavish new toys comforted him enough to sleep through the night.

She hadn't gotten the chance to ask him before the Stormtrooper squad whisked him away and she was left in the silence of her quarters. She dimmed the lighting in the main room and sat miserably on the chaise after he'd gone, staring at the stars through one of the viewports and caught up in her memories: Riku as he staggered his first steps toward her outstretched hands while Poe and Finn cheered him on; the first picture Riku drew for her, a wide, misshapen oval topped with three scribbled bumps and vivid blue lines surrounding it like a halo, moving her to sentimental tears; the first time Riku cried in her arms when the other base children fled from him in terror, after he attempted to win them over with a levitated doll; the sweet, happy little smile on his face when she uncovered Poe's hidden gift of replacement coal colors, somehow delivered to Hoth before they arrived.

So many moments, each so significant and poignant that they equally warmed and broke her heart, and now she was being forced to count her hours with him, to make every second matter in case Ren's benevolence waned or disappeared completely. It was a cruel thing to do to a mother, and she hadn't realized that her nails were cutting into her palm until the sting became too hard to ignore. Ren was getting everything he'd ever wanted. A spoiled prince—a lonely prince, her mind supplied unbidden—whom had seized control of his empire and the terrified respect of the galaxy, in addition to successfully stalking and capturing the woman he lusted after and the son he craved. Was there anything left for him to have? But then the evolution of a thought that had been meandering through her mind crept forward.

Ren might have access to her body, might have the ability to make it hum and writhe at just his touch, but the one thing he didn't have, despite the Bond that threaded between them, was her pure, unadulterated love. He had her lust and possibly her sanity when his hands and mouth and presence blinded her to everything else around her, but she had vehemently denied him any part of her that he hadn't taken by coercion. No matter how he orchestrated the odds in his favor, no matter how much he pleaded with her to declare that she belonged to him and open herself up to the Bond that connected them, she had never done so willingly. It had always been  under duress, and always with extreme reluctance.

She might have been close...once...but that budding hope had been crushed to pieces when she realized just with whom she was at risk of losing her heart. What she felt for him was anything but pure, barely rational, and continuously confusing where the Bond was concerned, but since her first escape from the _Finalizer_ , she had chosen not to see him as anything but a monster in the shape of a man. And he knew that. It was why he had tried so hard at every turn to convince her otherwise, why he removed his mask whenever he tried to sway her, why he used his touch to blur her thoughts and overwhelm her senses. He hadn't just been trying to get her to accept the Dark side...he had wanted her to accept _him_.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to go beyond the bruised ego and gloating domination she had always attributed to him. Had he...had he done all of this—herding her into terrifying situations, chasing her desperately across the galaxy, seizing control of an empire and turning the might of their entire military force toward finding her—because he simply wanted her helpless to escape his attempt to woo her? General Organa's words still surfaced in her mind on occasion, when she'd had to remind herself why she and Riku needed to remain cautious whenever they moved on to a new place.

_Maybe you're unfamiliar with his penchant for single-minded obsession, but unfortunately, that's always been his thing. I assure you that he never does anything by half._

She had thought then that Ren just wanted her for her power and potentially the affinity they shared as Force-users. Rey had gone over the events that occurred on the _Finalizer_ over and over in her mind before, and she had always attributed Ren's attentiveness and slow enticement to his desire to win her over to the Dark side. But now, in light of everything, it was becoming clear that there was more to it. And what she was supposed to do with that knowledge, she wasn't sure. Regardless of how Ren felt about her, he was still being overly-cautious. The collar and the Stormtrooper detail that had been posted in her room during Riku's visit proved that he didn't trust her not to devise some plan of escape. At least, he didn't trust her yet.

Perhaps...perhaps there was another way to play this long game. She had planned on simply surviving until the chance presented itself, but maybe she needed to gamble more aggressively. Maybe she needed to shed that troublesome righteousness that Ren thought was so intrinsic to her being and start moving the game pieces on her own.

Rey faced the mirror head on, letting her eyes trail over the curve of bare shoulders interrupted by the thinnest of straps holding up her gown, at the way her small cleavage was pressed up and out by the tight bodice that disappeared into the slender arch of her exposed back. The gown clung to her thighs all the way down to her calves, where it belled out slightly in a froth of faux feathers that trailed around the hem and up to the round of her bottom where the fabric ended. A portion of her hair was gathered and pinned up, but the rest was free to tumble in softly rolling curls around her shoulders. Ren seemed to enjoy threading his fingers through her hair. The woman who stood before her now did not resemble Rey of Jakku, or Rey the Jedi Apprentice, or even Rey the fiercely protective mother. This Rey was wearing the guise of a seductress, even with the fashionable collar around her neck, and maybe...it was time she played the part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a bit of a holiday hiatus (lol, after a 3 week chapter update, I know -_-) as I will traveling rather extensively. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up in case you aren't subscribed/receiving notifications on updates. And I continued to be bewildered/amazed by the level of support & feedback that I've received here and through tumblr for this story - I sound like a broken record, but it truly means so much to me that people enjoy this. Every kudo and comment still makes me smile like an idiot. Thank you, truly, and Happy Holidays!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some things to note here: this chapter doesn't have a flashback, as I consider it an extension of the previous scene (if you remember, I decided to push the smut off until this chapter); this chapter has taken on a life of its own and now has hopes and dreams and a mortgage, rounding out at around 12K words; my beta (@sosanguine) is freaking amazing, patient, and *amazing*, and for listening to all of my sobbing and reading MANY iterations of this thing she deserves to be elevated to sainthood; this chapter contains smut and crude(r) language than in previous chapters, but I am guessing if you've come this far, you don't mind. ^_^ Enjoy!

When the door slid open behind her, Rey didn't immediately turn from the viewport to face her guest. Instead, she pinched the glass stem between her fingers, raised it carefully to the perfect pink of her lips, and took a long sip of the amber liquid she'd been given by the serving droid. Her nose wrinkled at the bubbles fizzing against the roof of her mouth, but she realized the taste was finally starting to grow on her after her second glass.

She held herself as regally as she knew how, unpracticed in the art of true, aristocratic conceit but able enough to convey a casual aloofness that she'd perfected on the more unsavory characters of Jakku. The sound of the door whooshing shut made something flutter nervously in her stomach, amplified by the way she could practically feel Ren's gaze dragging down the line of her silhouette. Rey held her position despite this, forcing herself into stillness as the quiet percussion of footsteps neared with impending finality. They halted only when they were practically upon her, and in one last defensive measure, she took her time setting the glass in her hand down with a faint clink on a side table.

Warmth radiated from the figure standing so closely to her bare back, it triggered a resonate shiver that skated over her flesh like a delicate sound wave. Behind her, a breath stirred the errant strands of hair that had eluded the curls rolling down her back, but was quickly replaced by the sensation of fingertips sweeping the entire mass aside to fall over her collarbone. Taking full advantage of the unveiling, lips, soft and full, pressed against her goose-prickled shoulder. They stayed there insistently while a gloveless hand skimmed lightly up her arm, hesitating at the the top of her bicep before it traveled downward again.

Every past encounter she'd had with the man hovering like a shadow behind her taught Rey to expect impatience and the rapid escalation of intimate contact. The moment their skin connected, it was usually like a flame doused in oil, a surge of barely-contained kinetic energy that had required every bit of her willpower to endure without completely embarrassing herself. Which is why Ren's gentle, persistent movements surprised her as his warm palm passed over her chilled flesh again and again, up, then down, soothing and light, slowly draining the tension away through a softly hypnotic current of touch.

It was so unexpected, this haunting calm, that her eyes fluttered closed in response. Maybe it was the drink she'd consumed, or her mind's willingness to let this happen for once without her signature resistance, but each sweep of Ren's hand felt like bewitchment, as though a tenacious, silken filament was being drawn across her skin—just one of many threads that sought to bind her tightly to him. But even as he lulled her body into passivity, twisting her round in the web of his lure with covetous greed, Rey's mind was still sharp and vigilant, allowing herself to be pulled in close enough to glimpse the secret vulnerability of his underbelly.

His hand was still moving ceaselessly against her arm, but now she also felt those soft lips of his feather teasingly along the column of her neck. Her body unexpectedly fell into him as the erotic touch curled through her, and vaguely she registered the curious feeling of crisp fabric brushing against her exposed back. It didn't feel like the rough material that made up his surcoat, which had always looked capable of chafing skin if given the chance, but that thought abruptly stalled in her brain like a faulty motivator when the liquid slide of a tongue made itself known behind her ear.

It traveled hotly up the seam, tasting the skin there, and the wicked way he returned to press it into the hollow just above her jaw shattered any prior illusion he'd given of gentlemanly conduct. The move was positively lascivious, the wet lave of that assailing, velvet tongue, and when her head lolled to the side, Ren predictably capitalized on the opportunity and struck with vicious efficacy, clamping his mouth down on the throat she unwittingly bared to him like a hungry viper. He seized her biceps to prevent her escape, and Rey hissed in a breath, just barely able to stop the moan that threatened to spill.

Her reluctance wasn't meant to completely hide how he affected her—on the contrary, tonight was a study in how her reactions affected _him_ —but she needed to feel whatever small modicum of control she could muster if she was going to go through with this. This, like any standoff they'd had, required fortitude and cunning. Ren reveled in pressing his advantage, and she needed to use his certainty that he could play her body like a maestro against him. Rey had to know if she possessed the means to truly seduce him back, or if he was so guarded that he would only allow them to be intimate when he commanded complete control.

Her actions were slow, drowsy, fighting weak knees when she felt the bite of teeth on her throat above the Force-dampening collar, but after a firm pull against the tight clench on one of her biceps, Rey managed to slide her hand upward until she was able to twine it in the silky locks of hair at the back of Ren's head. She felt him pause momentarily, likely stunned that she would willingly touch him this way, but that lasted all of a heartbeat before his free arm hooked around her torso and crushed her against him like he wanted to fuse with her.

Ren's unleashed passion was overwhelming as always, as brazen and unapologetic as the lightsaber he wielded. Rey clung helplessly to her fist of hair when he lifted her entire body up so that her slippered feet dangled above the floor, dragging her quite deliberately against that part of himself that had thickened with his ramping lust. She had but a moment to gasp before he sunk his teeth more firmly into the tender curve of her throat and elicited the moan she had previously succeeded in holding back. The savagery of the act made her suddenly aware of a growing slickness between her thighs, as if a revealing curtain had been parted to show the flaws in her defenses. This was Ren's method, to subdue and conquer, quickly and efficiently, before she had the chance to fight back. He wanted her weakened, docile. Well, tonight would be different, Rey snarled in her head.

She heard him grunt when she pulled sharply at the hair in her grip, causing his head to jerk and unlatch from her neck in response to the stinging pain. Rey used this distraction to wriggle from the restraining cinch of his arms, loosened but not completely liberated, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, she turned within the tight circle to face him.

His eyes were still darkened with lust and his breathing accelerated, but he watched her with a cautiously speculative gleam that told her she had mere moments to either act or explain herself before he lost patience and advanced again. Her gaze quickly spanned down the length of him, the space between them just enough to get a look at his attire. She'd been right; Ren was not dressed in his usual military surcoat.

Had it been any other color, the elegantly-cut jacket, fitted trousers, and sleek calf-high boots might have been considered—in her humble, uninformed opinion—princely. But she should have known that he would tolerate no less than the grimmest shades of black. Despite this, they appeared finely made, and it occurred to her that maybe Ren needed this change in costume to shed the severity of his station for an evening of quiet dining; much like his mask allowed him to perform all manner of cruelties in the midst of battle.

Ren's perusal of her own attire was decidedly more attentive and seemed to give him pause. She knew the gown's gossamer black threading and tight stretch of skin-toned fabric made it appear as if the scrolling lace was creeping up her bare flesh. The effect had alarmed her at first, especially given the fact that its plunging design revealed more skin than she had even tolerated in the desert; she had, however, reassured herself that the somewhat sheer fabric was opaque enough not to embarrass her completely. Still, the way Ren's eyes lingered as if he could see through the weave made her question her own judgment more than a little bit.

“I wasn't sure you'd wear it.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it managed to hit that deep, spine-tingling note of bass that always engendered an involuntary shudder. His eyes eventually met hers again, after they had drunk their fill of lace and flesh, and the wicked intent she read burning within them almost robbed her of words.

“Then...why did you send it?” The liquid she imbibed earlier had a desirable, palliative effect that somehow kept her breathing even as she spoke. Any other time that stare was leveled at her, she'd sounded as though she were recovering from a breakneck sprint up a sand dune, but this time her voice was smooth, measured. Perhaps it would do her some good to have another glass before the night was done.

“Wishful thinking, I suppose,” Ren mused, as he lifted a hand to push her curled hair back over her shoulder. He had returned to visually tracing the swirling patterns of lace curling over her hips like strategically-placed vines, but his odd statement lingered in the air between them, a strange admission coming from the dark-hearted monster she had once believed he was. Now that she had other ideas of his true motivations, she realized this might be her best opportunity to test her theory.

With an eye on Ren's distracted face, she slid the fingers of one hand up along the sharp slope of his jaw, tasking the other to tangle again in the soft hair at his nape and idly wondering if she was starting to develop a hair fetish. Rey saw him freeze once again at the touch, like he had ceased to breath for a heartbeat, before he raised his dark eyes to hers.

The dizzying mix of suspicion, creeping hope, and desire all blazing like a poorly banked fire within his gaze confirmed her intuitions, before he was quickly able to shutter it behind a frown. One of her thumbs rested against his smooth, cleanly-shaven cheek as she tilted her head down just so, mimicking an expression she'd once seen from a crafty woman in a bazaar attempting to coax a young man into buying her a pretty scarf. The man had seemed enraptured, and Rey had rolled her eyes at the easy and obvious manipulation of an ill-prepared mark as she passed. But now, as she gazed up at Ren from beneath her lashes, pink lips parted and dampened by a quick swipe of tongue, she realized the power of such an expression.

Ren's frown was was slowly melting away as his attention flickered from her eyes to her lips and back in rapid succession. Even his cheek, cupped in her hand, was leaning unconsciously into the light press of her fingers, like a starving plant straining toward the sun. Rey noticed this now that she knew to look for it, but this wasn't enough, she knew. She needed to be sure.

“What else does a man like you wish for, I wonder?” Rey asked in a breathy whisper, in part to keep from breaking the spell Ren seemed to be under, but also due to the heady rush of power washing over her at the prospect of finally gaining the upper hand on such an unequal playing field. Ren's gaze lingered on her mouth as she formed words meant to draw him deeper into the trap she laid. “With everything in the known galaxy under your thumb, what is there left for Kylo Ren to want?”

A shaky breath escaped from between his lips, and Rey was gratified to see that for once, her words were affecting his breathing, rather than the other way around. It took everything in her to hold back the triumphant smile threatening to break over her face as she watched him begin to list forward as if drawn by an invisible cord, his gaze fastened on her mouth. But Rey wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being the aggressor. No, now it was her turn to take whatever she wanted from him.

The second her eyes made it back up to his, Rey set her jaw determinedly and pulled him down for a kiss. She suspected that she'd successfully caught him off-guard, because he didn't immediately respond when she pressed her parted lips against his. Her body angled so that her breasts within the tight squeeze of the gown's bodice pushed up against his chest and her hands smoothed back into his hair, relishing the feel of it sliding between her fingertips with guilty pleasure. It was definitely becoming a fetish. The kiss was like a hard-won parry of her saber; audacious, thrumming with the frantic need to survive, thrilling in its defiance against improbable odds.

Ren's slack mouth and stationary hands didn't stay that way for long though. As Rey tentatively touched her tongue to his, lapping lightly at the tip to bolster her courage, Ren snapped into motion like a live wire. His hands molded around her narrow ribcage and once again she found herself lifted off her feet, this time pressed roughly against the cool transparisteel of the viewport. She gasped for the second time that night in surprise at the chill of its slick surface on her exposed skin and Ren wasted no time in exploiting her open mouth by snaking his tongue inside to twist with her own. Rey refused to be mastered though. Her fingers weaved tightly in his hair again, pulling his head backward as she pushed herself forward, sealing her lips against his and swallowing his groan.

She kissed him so thoroughly that she felt light-headed for want of oxygen, but she didn't relent, simply canted her head to the other side and breathed in the dregs of air that slipped through before she kissed him again with concentrated fierceness. Every move deserved a calculated counter, an answer to his daunting confidence, and she would not allow him to escape this unscathed. Though dulled by the collar around her neck, the Bond was warming between them, seemingly fueled as much by contention as by their proximity, and the weight of it pressing in her mind gave her a sudden, ruthless idea.

It was uncharacteristic of him, but since she'd arrived on the _Finalizer_ , Ren hadn't deliberately read her thoughts as far as she could tell. She'd been doing her best to block him out anyway, as the consequences of one stray thought could be detrimental to her cause. The collar, just like Ren had outlined for her in the shuttle hold, limited her Force powers and the flow of energy between them, but it still allowed them to communicate. Ren had projected his thoughts into her mind and until now, Rey had refrained from projecting any of her own that hadn't been coerced. But now she had a reason. Now was the perfect time to go on the offensive.

Ren's thumbs were digging into the undersides of her breasts as he held her up, his eyes closed and leaning hard into her aggressive, breath-stealing kisses. Rey's tongue retreated in favor of sucking his lower lip between her own, abrading it with a scrape of teeth and smiling triumphantly when he hissed in response. He was finally just how she wanted him, enthralled, susceptible, and ready for her to push the advantage. He never thought her capable of it, but for once Rey was able to think through the haze of desire. Her hands trailed downward to cup Ren's jaw as she touched her forehead to his and whispered lowly into his mind, ' _Kylo_...'

His eyes immediately flew open, finding hers. She knew then by the way his gaze radiated heat and desperate longing, that she had found the key to his undoing. It seemed so simple, yet prolific, as she felt the hands holding her aloft press more urgently into her sides, his hardness lined up with the most feverish part of her wedging more firmly between her gown-covered thighs. Something in their connecting gaze flared like a fuel fire, and Ren looked ready to stoke the flames even higher. Rey knew she needed to keep her head, but when he looked at her like that, like the only thing keeping him from all that he desired was the space of an exhale, she worried.

And she might have been on the cusp of enduring one of the most rigorous tests of her willpower to date, had a pleasant, droning voice not broken the moment with an oblivious, chirping enthusiasm.

“Supreme Leader, Madame Rey,” the serving droid chimed out from somewhere to the left of them. “Dinner is served.”

They both froze, Ren's lip still caught between her teeth. She released it slowly, eyes flickering up to meet his, and they turned as one to observe the droid standing next to the dining table that Rey had frankly forgotten was there. Rey blinked a few times, attempting to reconcile the dramatic shift in ambiance; despite the droid being wholly incapable of judging her, she felt a blush beginning to warm her cheeks.

Ren processed the interruption much differently. He pulled back just enough to allow Rey to slip down the transparisteel to gain her feet, but then one of his hands shot up, palm outward, with a malicious snarl curling his lip. His intentions dawned on her suddenly, and she just managed to grasp his arm as she heard an ominous crunch of metal coming from the droid.

“No, Ren, don't!”

His head jerked to stare incredulously at her, but when there were no further noises of destruction, Rey realized that this was her cue to continue. She saw the serving droid teeter uncertainly on its spindly limbs from out of the corner of one eye, likely unaware of how close it came to becoming scrap metal.

“It's not its fault,” Rey insisted carefully, her fingers curled around the arm Ren still aimed offensively at the droid. “It's only doing the job it was assigned. It doesn't deserve your wrath just because it has bad timing.” The droid chirped an ill-timed agreement, and Rey threw a glare in its direction to discourage any further perilous responses.

The silence following her entreaty was tense, but she waited diligently to see if he would still deliver judgment on the unsuspecting droid. Even then, she was mildly shocked when he lowered his hand. It was done with obvious reluctance and a vague look of disgust that told her how rare it was for Ren not to indulge his impulses. “I didn't think you'd be so protective of a droid,” he eventually replied with a haughty undertone. “Is it not just a collection of parts to a scavenger?”

The condescension made Rey bristle, and the press of his palm resting on the curve of her waist suddenly irritated her. She could no sooner resist knocking him down a peg than try to protect the serving droid from harm. “Well, you've made a similar mistake before, haven't you? And I don't seem to remember that assumption working in your favor.” Her gaze trailed deliberately along the line of pink scarring bisecting his face, allowing just a hint of smugness to bleed through.

Ren's eyes narrowed dangerously at her and his mouth opened to respond, but it was clear that he didn't have a ready answer to her verbal jab. Rather than bask in the victory, Rey decided then, with the feel of his blunt fingers beginning to press alarmingly into her side, that it was best to put some distance between them, lest he subject her to whatever repercussions he had brewing behind those dark eyes of his. She'd lost the immediate advantage anyway when the droid interrupted them and she needed time to regroup.

Laying a hand on the expanse of expensively-garbed chest that stretched before her eye line, she focused on using considerable force to push Ren backwards and not on the densely-packed muscles she felt flexing just beneath her palm. She used every ounce of concentration left within her to deliver her next words without any breathlessness. “I believe you wanted to have dinner, unless you sent the dress and the droid for some other reason? If we don't eat it now, it'll all go to waste.”

Ren's brow furrowed as his gaze raked back down her form, and she would venture by the hungry look on his face that he was about to respond with some equivalent of 'Kriff dinner', but she took that moment to sidestep his looming presence and make her escape.

The soft cushion of the heeled slippers on her feet, secured by a hidden crisscross of black silk ribbons that wound all the way up to her thighs, made her feel as if she was gliding away from him. Only when she arrived at the decadent spread laid out by the serving droid, did she look back at him in askance.

The way he remained rooted in place might have been comical if the stakes for success in this endeavor weren't so high. His body was still leaning into the space she had just occupied, his head turned in her direction with a faintly perturbed expression troubling his darkly handsome face. He had one hand raised slightly, almost as if it had belatedly tried to stop her from leaving his proximity. It gave her a small measure of confidence that Ren might still be preoccupied with the sound of his name whispered in his mind, and of the kisses she had bestowed with enthusiasm and of her own free will.

Now safely across the room, Rey stepped carefully behind one of the high-backed chairs at the table, erected specifically by the droid for this evening's dining experience. It was not quite a retreat—she made the movement leisurely enough not to appear so—but she felt infinitesimally better having a solid object between them. She was unsure of how Ren would react from this point forward. Would he concede to her obvious maneuvering of the situation, or was the slow clench of his fists at his sides an indication that he was at the end of his already razor thin patience--

“Of course,” Ren answered more smoothly than she thought he was capable of at the moment. Rey watched him straighten his stance and turn to face her, his hands unfurling deliberately against his thighs. His face was already affecting an impassive mask as he made his way to the table, but she caught the flash of something heated in his dark eyes as he neared. When she realized that his intended destination wasn't the empty place setting across from her—but instead, directly where she was standing—she began to stammer ungracefully in protest.

“W-Wait, Ren, y-you just said--” His warm fingers curled around hers and pulled them gently away from the chairback, tugging her sideways so that her shoulder nearly bumped into his chest. She gazed up at him in bewilderment until he released her hand from his over-sized grip and crossed behind her, his presence like the pull of gravity at her back. Panic and dismay were already beginning to surface, lamenting the fact that she might have entirely misjudged her advantage; but then her ears registered the soft scrape of chair legs dragging along the floor.

Rey pivoted on her heel in order to fully take stock of the man beside her. Ren's eyes were held downcast with an air of polite formality that she had rarely seen from him, and he had the chair positioned in such a way that it seemed to be awaiting her occupation.

She had only seen the like once in an overwrought holodrama, never in practice, and it struck her as peculiar that of all the people in the galaxy that might have done this for her, Ren would be the one. But he _had_ been a prince before he'd renounced his lineage and retooled himself as a knight and inquisitor for the Dark side, so it stood to reason that old habits were hard to shake. Still, it was difficult not to continue gaping at him like a stranded blobfish, and even more so to force her limbs into action so that he could complete the gallant gesture. A soft breath slipped out of her as she lowered herself down, just as the chair was brought forward to catch her slight weight and effectively seat her at the table. There was a strange emotion welling up inside her, and she had to wonder if Ren hadn't done such a thing just to throw her off balance.

Her suspicions remained unconfirmed as Ren moved to take his own seat across from her, picking up the intricately folded napkin in front of him and snapping it crisply before laying it in his lap. Suddenly, Rey had a moment of profound uncertainty. Since her dramatic departure from Jakku, cohabitation with the Resistance, apprenticeship with Luke, and years spent in hiding with her son, formal table manners had never quite made it on the agenda. And now she found herself dining in the presence of a prince. Most of her knowledge of etiquette had come from Poe as he'd subtly tried to impress upon a former desert scavenger and former Stormtrooper the merits of not inhaling food like an approaching comet could be on-course for impact at anytime.

The thought had just crossed her mind that she should probably follow Ren's lead, when the serving droid plucked her napkin up and laid it down with a flourish across her lap. There were plates of tiny, savory looking cakes and golden tarts on the table, piled high and distracting her from the movements of the serving droid puttering around her. Was it somehow breaching formal dining protocol to swipe one to taste before Ren had begun eating? Rey nibbled her lip in contemplation as a covered dish was set before each of them. She watched as one of the finer nuances of First Order technology was flaunted with casual aplomb when Ren tapped a shiny chrome button on the side of the cover, causing it to recede into itself like a diminishing iris.

With a tap of her own cover, she revealed the mouthwatering contents beneath and similar to the earlier fruit and real water fresher, she knew she wouldn't begrudge herself this indulgence in the slightest. She'd had little experience with foods outside of reconstituted water-bread, field rations, and the occasional run-in with hastily-prepared street food, but the scent of rich, fragrant broth and root vegetables told her that this fare was leagues above anything she'd ever had at the Resistance base. Across from her, Ren chose a tart from one of the small towers between them and broke it in half over the aromatic soup, dipping it into the hot liquid before he took a generous bite.

Rey tried not to appear too eager when she followed suit. Her eyes closed briefly in bliss. She'd been right; the flaky tart, complimented by the vibrant flavor of the spiced broth, was easily the best thing she had ever tasted. When she saw Ren take up a utensil beside his dish to lift steaming spoonfuls up to his mouth to savor, Rey nearly snatched up her own and dug in with a vigor she couldn't have concealed if she tried. Her entire world narrowed down to the skim of her spoon through piquant broth and tender vegetables, redolent of every vivid fantasy she'd had as an orphan scavenger bunking down for the night in a drafty AT-AT with hunger pangs. Not a word had passed between them since they sat down, and there were mere spoonfuls of soup remaining by the time she thought to look up again.

She swallowed. Perhaps she shouldn't have let the distraction of new and interesting foods monopolize all of her attention. Had she been more aware, she might have noticed that she had an audience, and that this rapt audience of one had ceased eating entirely to stare at her with a soft, satisfied smile playing about his full lips and eyes that in contrast appeared inappropriately starved. Rey dropped her spoon into her dish abruptly, keenly embarrassed of how her voracious conduct might have been received. She shouldn't care, being coerced into all of this as she was, but nevertheless she was suffering from yet another moment of self-consciousness beneath Ren's scrutiny. It seemed part and parcel when dealing with him now.

“Please,” Ren urged when she looked away from him uncomfortably. “Finish. You seem to enjoy it.”

Her only recourse when dealing with the flush spreading down her neck like a brush fire was to act as if she was wholly unaffected. “No, I—I've had quite enough, I think.”

The disappointment on his face was obvious, but the serving droid chose that moment to lean in politely. “Madame, may I?” it asked with a tinny chirp and gestured to her nearly empty dish. She tried not to follow the dish with her eyes as it was cleared from the table once she nodded her consent. Ren waved the droid forward when it inquired after his own dish, still mostly full with warm, silky broth, and it was whisked away as well with a deferential hum.

Seeing such delicious food wasted in such a careless way almost caused a physical ache inside her, but she knew that even though trillions of people in the galaxy feared the ravaging menace of famine on a near constant basis, no one on the First Order's _Finalizer_ went hungry. They didn't labor and sweat all day in the scorch of the desert hoping to trade rusted components for scant fractions of sustenance, or spend days climbing and chipping away at veins of ore within a dank cave system just to ensure their son didn't suffer from an empty belly. She doubted that a child had ever set foot on the _Finalizer_ before Riku.

 _Riku_. Her mind seized upon the details of his face, the soft, dark curls tousled on his forehead, the way his smile favored one cheek and gave way to a tiny dimple. The prospect of that tremulous smile had seen her through some of her darkest days, when she'd felt bereft and inadequate, a pretender wearing the guise of a competent mother to mask the fact that she was making crucial parenting decisions as she went along. Her son had never doubted her, not even when she'd mistakenly bedded them down for the night in that nest of firecrawlers, and his blind faith in an affection-starved, orphan scavenger with no hearth or home to speak of had galvanized her like nothing else had. Riku _was_ her home.

It wasn't his fault that he didn't recognize the danger they were both in, and that's why it was up to her to see them through this safely and intact. Ren was his father, and unfortunately she could no longer hide that fact from him, but she hoped to one day explain her reasons for fleeing when he was older and able to understand. He didn't deserve any of this, not the life he had lived as a social outcast on the Resistance base, the days spent in solitude while she was away finding the means for them both to live, nor the scathing disappointment he was sure to feel when they left this lavish lifestyle. She would deal with his heartache when the time came, but for now she hoped he was at least enjoying what he could while he had it.

“Did Riku enjoy the same for dinner?” Rey asked, looking up from the odd centerpiece comprised of a mishmash of organic materials and polished, volcanic rock. Like every memorable experience she'd had in recent years, she always sought to share it with her son whenever possible. It would give her some comfort to know that he'd gotten to sample such wonderful flavors.

“A variation,” Ren replied benignly, though his eyes seemed to be studying her after such a long silence on her part. “Something a little more suited for a boy of six.”

A thought occurred to her then, and she found its impact tightening in her chest as she pinned Ren with a pensive look. “Did Riku eat alone this evening?”

The Supreme Leader of the conquered galaxy seemed taken aback by the question, but then the hawkish gaze softened just a touch. “No. Phasma volunteered to dine with him. It seems she and the boy have found a common thread when it comes to the arts. She asked if she might be allowed to indulge his curiosity a bit more, and I thought this appropriate.” The serving droid was a silent observer as it laid new utensils down in front of them both, but Ren didn't spare it a glance as he asked her soberly, “Is that acceptable?”

On some level, it struck Rey as surreal that he would ask her approval on something concerning his own, biological son, given her position as a captive, but most of Rey's thoughts centered around something more disheartening: the unfairness of being separated from her son while some other female stand-in kept him company. She surmised though that of all the First Order officers he could have chosen to be in close quarters with her son, she would have likely balked the least with General Phasma.

“Since it seems that I'll be too occupied to dine with him in the evenings, I suppose it will have to be.” Rey lifted the glass next to her place setting, shimmering with the same amber liquid of which she'd been partaking when Ren first arrived, and took a measured sip to wash down the bitter taste of her resentment. The bubbles lingering on her tongue burst with honeyed flavor, and she felt a warm feeling in her chest that told her she needed to take care not to overdo it from here on out. She still had a seduction she needed to execute.

Ren looked vaguely displeased with her answer, but chose not to comment until another covered dish was surreptitiously laid in front of them. Once the serving droid backed away, Ren activated the dish cover with the same feature as the first course, and this time Rey didn't hesitate to do the same. Nearly gaping at the picture-perfect decadence of succulent, golden, char-grilled fowl resting on a bed of some soft grain, she almost missed Ren's next words.

“Perhaps we all might dine together, from time to time.”

The casually-spoken remark hung between them, as Rey's hands froze on the set of utensils she'd been on the verge of picking up with unmasked enthusiasm. Her gaze drifted from the tempting vision of real meat to the man seated across from her, who had already begun tucking into his meal with an odd air of concentration.

Here it was again, that same peculiar emotion that accosted her after witnessing Riku's conversation with Ren in his head, or when she thought of the way that he laid a hand on Riku's head in obvious affection. Ren wanted a _family_. Granted, he'd had one before he'd taken up with Snoke, but it was brutally evident now that he had wasted loyalty—and lives—on that old monster. All she had ever heard from Leia regarding her estranged son was regret with the way she and Han neglected and foisted him off on Luke. It had been corroborated by his first gift to Riku – _The Lonely Prince_. Ren cared for Riku, but he was also trying to be the father that he'd never felt he'd had.

“Perhaps.” Rey said it quietly, and she saw Ren's gaze flicker up for a moment to gauge her expression before he turned it back to his meal. “When will I get to see him in combat training?” Rey added after a moment. He had never been quite clear on that, and Rey needed to know what Riku was being taught so that she could eventually begin the process of reversing it.

“Soon,” he answered, eyes still on his plate while he methodically segmented the grilled meat into smaller pieces. “We're focusing mostly on his Force abilities for the time being. Defense being the best offense. He's actually quite eager to show you what he's learned thus far.”

Of course. Riku was eager to show his mother what he'd learned because he didn't see anything wrong with learning Darksider principles and combat techniques. He had no idea where a Dark path could lead him, nor did she think he truly comprehended that Ren was edging him closer to potentially harming others. Her gentle little boy would become an unwitting murderer under his father's tutelage, good intentions or not.

She must have spent too long in silence, because eventually Ren seemed to notice that she hadn't yet begun eating. Uncomfortable beneath his questioning gaze, Rey picked up her utensils immediately to shave off a bite-sized piece from her entree and hurriedly pushed the fork between her lips.

Rey almost moaned aloud. How could anything be better than the soup she had previously devoured like a thirsting bantha? The food here was _divine_. As much as she wanted to remain unaffected by any of the amenities forced on her during captivity, food had always been a weakness of hers.

“How do you like it?” Ren asked, though she felt the inquiry was completely unnecessary given the undignified way she was frantically cutting into the meat to taste another piece. She tried to be polite and murmured something vaguely reverent about the food she was consuming between bites, but she wasn't sure if Ren understood her. But he must have, because she caught his slight smile as her eyes raised for a moment, just to make sure she hadn't put him off with her table manners. “It's Endorian chicken, poached in butter and herbs then flash-grilled until the skin crisps up. It's always been one of my favorites.”

“It's kriffing brilliant,” she concurred inelegantly around a mouthful. Then, suddenly, something he said registered. “Endor? I've been there.” She scooped up a bite of the savory grain, tossed with slender shards of some tangy dried fruit, and hummed in delight.

“You have?”

She nodded, waiting until she was able to speak freely, without impediment. “There's an outpost there in the middle of the wilderness but away from the natives. It's on an island, a little ways from the shore. They call it the--”

“The Shimmering Isle,” Ren finished with a faintly nostalgic note coloring his words. “I've been there too.”

“It's beautiful there,” Rey said rather wistfully, as she recalled the way the water had rippled in docile crests around the island. She had only been there momentarily, picking up a crate of unknown origins for the Resistance, but the quiet mystique of the place had prompted her to climb through a hatch near the aft of the Falcon to sit for hours visually absorbing the scenery. She'd been eventually chased off by a dock porter, but the memory still resonated strongly with her. She had gotten more than her fill of turbulent seas on Ahch-To, so the calming serenity of gentle waters had been a welcome change.

“That it is,” Ren agreed. “Believe it or not, there are many places like that in the galaxy. Quiet, majestic places. Forests untouched by the trample of feet, with iridescent lichen carpeting the ground as far as the eye can see. Rocky alcoves hidden away in the peaks of mountain tops and filled with shimmering crystal formations. Ice glaciers towering like spacescrapers into the sky and gliding through their arctic waters in utter silence.”

“I don't like the cold,” Rey blurted. “But the other stuff, it sounds...nice.” If someone had told her in the past that Kylo Ren, Darksider Knight of the brutal and oppressive First Order, appreciated the subtle beauty of nature in seclusion, she would have covertly checked that person for a head wound. But as she was discovering, there were all kinds of things she had previously assumed about Ren that no longer held water.

“I'd like to show our son some day. I think he would enjoy it. You would too.” His eyes were boring into hers with an intensity that caused her gaze to drop away in discomfort. But her mind was rapidly turning the seemingly genial statement over and over, parsing out the significance behind his words. He wanted to take them off-ship to see these wonders. Both of them. That meant time away from a warship chocked full of innumerable guards standing between her and possible freedom. There was still the matter of the collar to address, but if she could somehow find a way around it, or escape in spite of it...

She hadn't pushed for it, but this was the opening for which she had been hoping, a sign that Ren's careful watch might eventually flag for an instant—an instant that she might be able to exploit. Rey knew that she couldn't hesitate when the opportunity presented itself, because above all else, she needed Riku away from his sphere of potentially damaging influence. He ultimately wanted to groom their son into a carbon copy of the man he was now, a man who would kill, kidnap, and subjugate those who wouldn't bow to his wishes. It might be more difficult now than it had been to harden her heart, especially with these unanticipated feelings of regret cropping up when he spoke of showing Riku the galaxy, but she needed to, if they were ever going to be free again.

This was a boon, and she should treat it as such. With that thought echoing loudly in her mind, she met his gaze and nodded, attempting to look cautiously grateful. “I'd like that, I think.”

She pushed away the tendrils of rueful emotions creeping along her heart when she saw his small smile in response, disturbingly reminiscent of Riku's, and turned her focus back to polishing off the rest of the meal in front of her. In what seemed like no time at all, she was using one of the flaky brown cakes from the earlier course to nudge the remainder of the chicken and grain onto her fork, made even more delicious by the drizzle of sauce that had pooled in the dish. There was actually a pang of sadness welling up in her chest when she realized that she had finished it all, but then she heard the scrape of dishware across the tabletop as Ren unexpectedly pushed his own dish in her direction.

“Would you like the rest of mine?” Rey’s gaze bounced between him and the dish of heavenly, golden meat a few times, before she reached for it.

“Are you sure you don't want it?” she asked with her eyes glued to the dish. They both knew that she wasn't really interested in his answer, as she had already raised her fork to finish off what he'd so foolishly given up. Any thoughts about formal table manners were forgotten as she relished each remaining bite of the delectable meal. When she had finished, she sat back in the high-backed chair and mourned. “Do you eat foods like this every day? I still can't believe how good that was.”

There was an anomalous glitter in Ren's eyes that told her there were machinations afoot in that devious brain of his, but all he said in response was, “Yes. And you can have as much of it as you desire, whenever you like.”

“Erm...thank you.” Rey didn't know what else to say, and tried her hardest not to let her imagination run wild at the myriad possibilities. If all went well, she would be lightyears away from him and his decadent food as soon as she could manage it. She couldn't let the prospect of dining like a queen each night have any impact on her resolve to escape captivity posthaste.

The droid bowed into her eye line to remove both dishes from her side of the table, and Rey took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass for want of something productive to do. Ren swiped at his mouth with his napkin and picked up his own glass, taking a deep draw as he kept his eyes on her.

She managed not to fidget just long enough for the droid to return with another dish, and Rey scoffed incredulously in order to hide her eagerness. “More food? How is there any food left in the galaxy if everyone here eats this way?”

“It's dessert. Something sweet to finish off the meal.”

This time Ren didn't immediately move to open his dish and letting curiosity get the best of her, Rey pushed the button on the side of her cover to see what new culinary masterpiece was being served. Once again, the contents in the dish looked like some flawless digital representation of what food should be.

Glistening under a translucent, golden glaze was a spiral of sectioned fruit with plump, pulpy pink flesh and thin textured skin. Beside it was a peaky dollop of cream topped with a perfectly round berry that was almost too picturesque to eat, and a tiny sprig of some green plant that she couldn't identify as garnish. Rey was mesmerized by the arrangement, and before she knew it, her fork was in hand and spearing a wedge of fruit, dragging it through the cream before wrapping her lips around the entire thing.

The sticky-sweet brilliance of the glaze paired with the buoyancy of the frothed cream nearly hid the true flavor of the fruit beneath, but as she savored it, eyes closed in obvious relish, recognition careened to the forefront of her mind. This flavor...she had tasted something like this before. Her eyes flew open as the realization hit her, first to stare accusingly at the dish, then at Ren, who suddenly resembled a famished fenwolf straining to hold himself back from across the table. The shift in demeanor was disturbing but the reason was quite easy to discern.

The fruit beneath the glaze was the same as the one she'd found in her rooms this morning. The one that Ren had discovered her making a mess of, spilling juice down her chin and arms, before he backed her into another wall of transparisteel and used it to paint her breasts with dripping nectar. Rey swallowed, the sweet taste lingering on her tongue and summoning a flash of heat that spiked through her against her will. He had deliberately chosen this dessert as a reminder of their earlier time together, and if the way he was staring at her now was any indication, he wanted to revisit that interlude in short order.

“This...” She trailed off, at a complete loss for words.

But Ren wasn't. “Yes. I see you remember it,” he remarked quietly from his side of the table, watching her as he rose from his seat and tossed his napkin carelessly. Her limbs felt frozen when he moved forward with predatory grace and rounded the corner of the table, stopping only when he was directly behind her chair and prompting a shallow breath from Rey as his warm hands alighted on her shoulders. She felt the pressure of movement, the brush of fabric on her bare back, and then a curl of heated breath at her ear. His hands smoothed downward to her elbows, holding her firmly, and his whisper was low, dark, and sinful. “I've thought of nothing else since I left, Rey. The taste of this fruit, in your mouth, and on your skin.”

Rey's eyes slid closed, glad for the small ounce of privacy her position afforded. But her treacherous body gave her away as a tremor of response shook through her, prompting the fingers gripping her to press more urgently. Unexpectedly, the hands on her arms released, and she watched him move to kneel beside her chair, his towering height ensuring that even in this position they were still at eye level. Her brow furrowed as his fingers dipped into the dish before her, but then they lifted, prizing a glaze-drenched wedge from the spiral and slowly bringing the fruit closer so that it hovered just before her parted lips.

Her tongue darted out across her lips in nervousness but also in desire, eyeing the suggestive offering with apprehension. It taunted her, that delicately sweet temptation, bursting with juices and flavor unlike anything she'd ever imagined but closest to the dreams of fruit she'd had as a sand-covered scavenger. She wanted it, even though the hand that held it sought to use it to entice her, control her; she wanted it still.

The glaze was slipping down to coat his fingers when she slowly opened her mouth for him. Ren pushed it carefully between her lips and held it against her tongue until she bit down, and then Rey closed her eyes and indulged in the flavors and textures vying for her attention, sweet and slick, pulpy and lush. She chewed with a reverent sort of concentration, and as soon as she was finished, another piece was held up to her mouth, waiting to be consumed. She allowed him to feed her as she alternated between flushing at the way Ren trailed the fruit across her lips each time and moaning in near ecstasy at the taste.

When the fruit was finally gone, Ren held up his fingers, and before she really comprehended what she was doing, Rey drew two of them into her mouth to gently suck the excess glaze onto her tongue. His breathing seemed to get heavier then, and with wide eyes she released his fingers from her mouth with an embarrassing 'pop', sudden awareness of the connotations making her blush harder than before. Ren though was, of course, two steps ahead of her, and in the space of three heartbeats, she quickly found herself dragged from her seat, spun 'round, and kissed with bruising force.

He descended on her with feverish enthusiasm, slanting his mouth over hers again and again while his tongue sought the taste of the fruit in her mouth with a thoroughness that could only be attributed to Kylo Ren. But if there was one thing she had learned this evening, it was that Ren was incited by a challenge. Despite what he was teaching her son, the best defense against him was a ruthless offense.

Rey clutched the thick fabric of his jacket, submitting to his possessive kisses for only a moment longer before she stood on her tiptoes and pushed back. Her hands slid up his clothed chest to hook behind his neck and she pulled him down with ardent force, kissing him back with more passion than she thought herself capable. In fact, all of her actions this evening were beginning to feel instinctual as she ran her tongue along the edge of his teeth then pulled back when Ren chased after it, licking the taste of him from her lips with a teasing flit.

His suddenly frantic attempt to return his mouth to hers was dodged in favor of brushing her lips against the tense muscles of his neck and inflicting a soft bite on the straining flesh there. She basked in the groan he emitted and smiled against his skin as she laid small, open-mouthed kisses along the line of his throat and up to his jawline. The taste of him beneath her tongue was thrilling, and her mouth was eager to explore more of him. But again, Ren's passionate nature precluded any plans she might have had to sample further.

Hands smoothed roughly over her bottom, the only warning she received before she was abruptly lifted up and held against a rock solid chest as her slippered feet kicked the air in surprise. Ren met her gaze and the intent burning in his own told her exactly what end he planned on fulfilling. The prolonged evening had done nothing but stoke the wanting in him, and his patience seemed to have finally breathed its last breath with her assertiveness.

He carried her all the way to the bedroom door, and once he crossed over the threshold, he let her body slide down his until she found her feet. Rey's fingers twitched when he took her hand and led her purposefully to the neatly made, frankly overly-extravagant bed, then pulled her close until she was forced to crane her neck to look up at him. One hand stroked her jaw while the other spanned her slim waist, kneading methodically, and his eyes held a galaxy of unspoken emotion while he stared down at her in the darkened room. The dramatically-dimmed recessed lighting tucked into the perimeter of the the ceiling gave the whole room a kind of twilight luminescence that dulled the harsh edges with a gentle, glowing warmth. It softened the cold darkness of Ren's clothing and paleness of his skin, though it was not as effective on the intensity of his gaze.

His gaze was difficult to hold, not because of the visible lust that emanated from it like smoldering coals, but because of the other emotions she now recognized but wished she didn't: longing, desperation, devotion. She'd come to the conclusion earlier that Ren wanted a family and acceptance, but she hadn't realized how unprepared she was for everything else that came attached. There was no one else in the galaxy who looked at her the way he did, like she was as vital as the Force threading through every living thing. Her scheme to seduce him into complacency in order to secure her escape faltered in the face of that look, because it put her in real danger of being seduced herself.

The Force Bond between them was like a switch being primed over and over, accumulating power with every alternation, humming urgently in the background as its true purpose drew closer to fulfillment. It wanted them together, and had never let either one of them forget that despite their drastic differences, there was something inside them both that resonated like two chimes hitting the same note. Rey had fought the connection with her entire being, and Ren had fought _for_ it, strangely devout in his belief that it was both of their destinies to remain intertwined. The Bond was doing its best to prove his point; even now, it rattled the chains of their composure, but Ren somehow managed to hold back as he slowly lowered his head, hand guiding her face upward as he moved, and pressed a soft, unhurried kiss to her mouth in a rare show of restraint.

The contrast between this kiss and the previous ones was so markedly different that she was unsure of how to respond, but as seemed to happen often around Ren, instinct took over for her. Rey surged up into the kiss, hands plunging into the dense, silky hair that was easily becoming an unhealthy fascination, and glided her tongue along his in a way that made him growl and tighten his hold. The mantle of gentleness fled from his movements and the hand on her waist stole deftly up her torso to cup a breast through the sheer fabric of her gown.

Ren pulled back, pinning her with a hungry, knowing look as he deliberately lifted the slight weight of her breast in one large palm and molded his fingers around it, testing its firmness while she fought the restless rub of her thighs. He watched her with an intensity that she could barely endure, likely cataloging the flush she felt curling down her collarbone like warm smoke as he palmed her possessively, before leaning in close to nuzzle just below her jawline. She lost her breath when his fingers began coaxing the tender bud of one breast into hardness with a series of roughened pinches and twists, whispering praise into her vulnerable throat when the nipple strained beneath the fabric, as if begging him for more.

The dark chuckle he gave as he surveyed his handiwork had her shying away in a minor attempt at self-preservation, but his other hand looped behind her back to hold her securely in place. She saw Ren's tongue sweep over his lower lip in a familiar way, and had just enough time to exhale before Ren crouched down and bit down on the stiffened, lace-covered peak with gentle, persistent pressure. There was nothing to muffle her cry this time, and Rey looked down to see Ren's eyes locked on her face as he tightened his lips and began to draw upon her flesh through the gauzy cloth with voracious suction.

Rey squirmed at the hot, melting feeling between her legs and the warm pull of Ren's mouth, arching backwards against the crush of his arm around her middle. She tried to tear her eyes from him, conscious of the way she was hurtling toward a loss of control that wouldn't easily be regained, but then he perplexed her by abruptly pulling his mouth away and setting her down, though not without a ruthless scrape of his teeth before he released her. He took a step back from her heaving form, as she desperately tried to slow the labored, shallow breaths he'd induced, and then he began shedding his clothing.

The elegant jacket went first, slipping off his shoulders to fall negligently to the ground. After a few loosened buttons at his collar, his formal shirt was removed from his shoulders in one overhand tug. It laid bare all that thick, corded muscle at which his clothing merely hinted, interrupted only by the gleaming silver chain around his neck, and caused her mouth to run dry as her gaze roamed over every flexing inch. A belt was tightly threaded around the tapered waist of his pants, and though she was vaguely aware that he was undoing the clasp, slowly, and with his eyes on her, she was still absorbed in studying the pronounced valleys of his hipbones that framed the uneven ripple of his abdomen.

She had seen men before, of various shapes and sizes in different stages of undress over the years; the sweltering desert heat and the comfortable friendship she'd shared with Poe and Finn had taken most of the mystery out of the average male form. But Ren was anything but average. He was honed like the diamond tip of a subterranean drill, without softness or yield, and generously marked with the scars of battle. She recalled tracing these scars when she'd had access to them her first time on the _Finalizer_ , and wondering aloud why a citizen of the prodigal First Order hadn't used bacta to heal. _A reminder_ , he had said without elaboration, and she had realized then how personally he took each scar. Not so strange then that he would chase her to the ends of the galaxy for inflicting the most pronounced scar in his repertoire.

She started when his belt clinked as it hit the floor, but he didn't shuck the tailored pants off as she anticipated—as her increasingly indecent mind had wickedly hoped. They remained unbuttoned and offering a teasing glimpse of dark hair just above the parted fabric, but when she looked askance at him, his eyes weren't focused on her face. No, they were gliding down her form in a leisurely, salacious fashion, almost as if he could remove her gown with the strength of his focus. It occurred to her then that he probably could focus hard enough to remove it with the Force, but to her immense relief, he didn't. However, when he did finally look up at her, any comfort she might have felt vanished with his next words.

“That gown is a masterpiece, but if you'd like to keep it, I suggest you remove it before I rip it off you.”

The breath expelled from her lungs in a shaky staccato as she stared at him in disbelief, her hands spasming at her sides in alarm. With a conspicuously nonchalant air, Ren sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned his weight back on his hands, awaiting her compliance, the only thing belying his casual countenance an idly bouncing knee. She focused first on trying to slow the pulse racing through her veins, then on steadying her trembling hands as she slowly reached behind her to feel for the tiny fastenings on her gown that clasped just above the curve of her bottom, where the fabric began. Her fingers fumbled tragically when she stole a glance up at Ren and caught him wetting his lip in overt anticipation.

She eventually undid them all, allowing just enough slack to pull the delicate straps from her shoulders, but hesitated when the sliding fabric of her bodice clung to the pert nipples that had been standing eagerly for attention since his touch. Rey knew she needed to go through with this, and if she were honest with herself, she wanted to, but she was no longer the innocent she once was. This evening was about her empowerment, and if she let him dominate her as he had in every other encounter, she would be no better off than when she started this evening.

“Hurry, Rey.” Ren leaned forward, elbows to his knees, eyes fixed on the slight slouch of her loosened bodice inches away from revealing her body to him. Rey felt the resolve solidify inside herself at his subtle intimidation, his impatient, superior arrogance, and as she straightened, the demeanor of the furtive, sacrificial tribute laid in offering to a rapacious god fell away, only to be replaced by the fearsome woman who had carved memorable violence into the face of the First Order's best knight. She saw the faint smirk on Ren's face fall when she squared her shoulders, cocked her head in undeniable challenge, then peeled the gown down her body until it pooled in a slinky pile at her feet.

The gown hadn't allowed for much in the way of undergarments given its tightness, but the grooming droid had insisted on one particular detail that had seemed entirely fanciful at the time. Her slippers weren't ordinary slippers; they sported a flat heel and molded comfortably to her foot like one would expect of any slipper, but their most interesting feature would only be fully realized in the state of undress she was in now. Twin, black ribbons twined up her legs like the spirals of a helix, crossing over themselves again and again until they looped around her upper thighs. At the highest curve of her slender thigh, the ribbons were tied off into two neat bows resting on the downward slope of each hip.

Ren's jaw dropped open as his eyes trailed up the diamonds of exposed flesh hemmed in by satin ribbon, and Rey took the opportunity to stalk forward when they paused at the damp, secret place nestled between her thighs, then traveled up her taut belly to linger on her bare breasts. She stood proudly between his legs as his hands grazed over the crisscrossing ribbons, plucking restlessly at one thick band only to have it snap back against her skin with a light sting. He continued to finger it as if hypnotized by it, and Rey was internally grateful that she hadn't argued more fiercely with the droid over her attire.

It was petty of her to want to rub it in, but she enjoyed turning the tables on him when he was usually so smug in lording her obvious attraction to him over her head. Her own hand moved as if magnetized to card through Ren's hair as she leaned down to whisper cheekily in his ear, “Now who's taking their time, _Kylo_?”

A squeak of surprise escaped her when she was suddenly lifted off her feet and dropped unceremoniously onto Ren's lap with her legs straddled haphazardly around his hips. Her hands caught against the broad planes of his chest as she fell against him, belly to belly, and her lips parted anxiously at the dark look he threw her, though his lips were curled up into the faintest of smiles. “Certainly not I,” he assured her, and used his firm grip on her waist to grind himself upward into the bare, heated flesh between her thighs.

The point of contact was like a lightening rod of sensation, and Rey bucked against him at the rough contrast of clothing rubbing along her unprotected quim, nails digging into his shoulders in futile retaliation. He hissed aloud at her unbridled aggression and held her down with one hand while the other fumbled with the chain hanging around his neck. She was abruptly pulled into his chest and her hair swept aside, and then she felt the telltale pressure of a key being fitted into a lock. Her cheek lay against the hollow of Ren's throat when, after a series of clicks, the solid weight of the collar was tugged from around her neck to land with a dull thud somewhere behind them on the bed.

She had been awaiting the feeling, but the billowing rush of returning Force that spread through her body still took her breath away like the very first time. With his hand still resting on the nape of her neck, Ren rocked her backward as she weathered the gentle, rippling storm inside her, watching the naked emotions chase across her face in the rapture of the moment. Her lids lowered drowsily, the feeling filtering down through every part of her, but the man who held her against him was not so keen on letting her forget his presence.

Ren's forehead touched hers as she heard his voice in her mind, his relentless presence in her soul, asking a question with soft urgency. 'Are you ready for me, Rey?' The slickness between her thighs and the near desperate yearning in her heart told her, yes, she was, and so she pressed forward to kiss him again to convey her answer with irrefutable conviction. The kiss was a fervent slide of hot tongue, and in response Rey was lifted again, this time only a few inches above his lap, as Ren clutched her to him with one arm and lined the rigid tip of himself up with that sultry part of her that betrayed her lust.

Her sex craved the invasion, pressing obscenely against the blunt head of his cock in a dewy kiss, and Rey's hips jerked impatiently when she realized he was holding her immobile instead of following through on his carnal promise.

“Ren...” she whined, squirming against him in an attempt to bear down and alleviate the misery of unfullfillment. The Bond was clamoring for it as well, pulsing in time with the throb between her legs.

“Tell me you need this, Rey,” Ren whispered to her in a strained voice, eyes boring into hers with an edge of dark possessiveness. He nudged himself more firmly against her but kept her aloft, biting fiercely at his lip with the effort it took to restrain himself before he gritted out, “I want to hear you say it. I _need_ to hear you say it.”

She groaned at the hard, blunt tease of him, coaxing a flood of wetness from her as she rode the insistent pressure and shuddered under the impact of his words. It was always a battle of wills with him, but Rey also sensed the desperation in his voice, the quivering in the muscles that held her, and she knew that he desired this just as much as she did. Rey shot a hand up to grab at the hair near his temple, clenching tightly in her frustration and growled at him. “You first, _Kylo_.”

He brought her down hard on his erect cock, forcing every bit of air from her lungs, driving himself deep as he plumbed her tight passage with a savagery she both feared and coveted. She was barely able to gasp in a breath before large hands gripped her thighs just beneath her ass, forcing her knees into the air with legs splayed indecently, and dragged her up the turgid length with surprising speed. In a quick, brutal motion, she was brought down again, helpless to do anything but feel the thrust of his cock pushing its way inside, choking on a moan when she was lifted yet again and slammed down with careless abandon to take every solid inch he had to give.

She was raised and dropped repeatedly on his cock as Ren inflicted his licentious retribution, grunting at the harsh rhythm and each time he filled her up to the very brink. He didn't relent, not even when she arched backward in his hold, displaying her breasts in lurid detail as they bounced in front of his face. With every lewd smack of his hips against her bottom, every deep-seated fuck into her feverishly hot channel, Rey felt the coil of Force inside her wind tighter, thrumming and persistent until she ached with the need to release it. Rey's hand was still threaded in Ren's hair, and despite the hard pace, she used it to pull him into a clumsy kiss. She rose and fell just a little faster then, the Force building like electricity in her mind, and she realized that Ren was chasing the feeling, ushering them toward the cliff of their release.

Rey was panting against his mouth now, breathy appeals like 'please' and 'yes' tumbling from her lips as Ren continued to piston his hips into her, his rhythm finally faltering in the face of his impending pleasure. She cried out at a particularly violent thrust, so deep and rough that she feared he'd struck her heart, and then she was falling over the edge in a sea of boundless energy. Fingers squeezed around her thighs with bruising strength, and then she was plunged down onto his cock, once, twice, then a final time, before the rush of his release joined the tumultuous wave of sensations rocking her being to the core.

She barely felt the arms that wrapped around her or the chin that hooked over her shoulder as she was brought close, but Ren's whispered declaration did make it through the haze of oscillating pleasure and power swirling around them. It was faint and low, but she heard it clearly in her mind and in her heart.

‘I need this, Rey. I need this.’  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thanks so much for your patience with this chapter (as well as your kind words, critiques, and support), and feel free to say hi on tumblr! (http://theauraki.tumblr.com/)


End file.
